Perfect Blood
by c.mary.c
Summary: Winry's rare blood disorder and lonely life are key in the military's effort to cure diseases, but when a psychopath comes after her a golden-eyed soldier with disturbing secrets of his own is the only person who can keep her safe. AU. EdxWin. -Complete-
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm hoping to keep notes to a minimum. I've decided to try something different and blend the world of Amestris into modern day New York City. Basically some parts of New York I've renamed after locations in Amestris to reflect inspiration from the world of FMA, but not be exact replicas. Everything in this story should be pictured as the modern day environment of New York, I'm simply borrowing names. I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

One smile can start a friendship.  
One word can end a fight.  
One look can save a relationship.  
One person can change your life.

-Unknown

* * *

**Perfect**** Blood**

"All Finished."

The nurse smiled at me as the needle slid from under my skin with a bold pinch. I had been here a million times, and having blood drawn no longer phased me, but the pinching sensation that came along with it was still annoying. I held the cotton swab in place as a band-aid went over it.

"Thanks Rose," I gave a small, polite smile as I made my way to the lab exit. "I'll see you in a month."

She clutched the small crimson vial and looked back at me with shining, wet eyes.

"No Winry, thank you ."

Very few people knew about my secret. my condition. Of course the nurses at the base hospital in Central knew, but they were sworn to secrecy. And Granny, who's been there from the start, knew. And obviously the military. Thats why I drove every month to come to the base hospital so that they could take blood samples. Sometimes its more than just that. A blood transfusion here, an experimental vaccination or infection there. All because they've been looking for something. Something that I hold the key too, and yet, I'm as unable to find that key as they are. Even though we have looked for 10 years.

Pulling my leather jacket around me tighter to shield myself against the late October air, I made my way across the parking lot to my Honda Fit. With the money I get from the government, I could easily afford a nicer car if I wanted one. But when you live in the village on Manhattan's lower west side, there's not much point to driving a big fancy car. The streets are narrow and cobblestoned, turns are sharp, streetlights are few and far between, and bike messengers fly up and down the streets as they weave their way between cars. Around here, beautiful cars don't stay beautiful for long. As I neared the driver's side door of my car I noticed a small scrap of paper held against my windshield by the wipers. Assuming it was some sort of ad I pulled it away and merely glanced at it, only to pause a second later and take a closer look. It was a typed note, something that had been printed from a computer.

'I love you' was all it said.

"How sweet." I quietly said to myself. Having no significant other to speak of I assumed the note was meant for another cars windshield and tossed it in my glovebox as I got in.

I was feeling light-headed and decided to swing by the local deli near my apartment on my way home. For some reason I never ate enough before my doctor appointments and it always wound up leaving me nauseous. Christopher street is a long and narrow stretch nestled in a part of Manhattan quiet enough to make you almost forget that you live in one of the biggest cities in the world. Beautiful old brownstones are smushed together along tree-lined streets, accompanied by mom-and-pop cafes, shops, bakeries, and Italian delis. Neighbors and tourists alike can always been see out walking, and somehow, the air down here seems fresher. The cost of living here isn't cheap, but its worth it if you can afford it. My apartment exists on the fourth floor of a pre-war building. The lobby is small and there is no doorman, but luckily there is an elevator and a parking garage two doors down with reserved spaces for the residents of 32 Christopher St.

I parked my car in a reserved spot on the second level and took myself and my sandwich down the stairwell and out on the street. The crunch of autumn leaves under my boots was only masked my the munching I heard in my head, as I simply couldn't take it anymore and decided to eat while I walked home. After the elevator ride to the fourth floor I continued my trek down the long, carpeted hallway until I reached my door and was surprised to find a small package waiting for me. I opened my door and brought the small box inside and set it down on my large ottoman. Upon closing my front door I stopped at the framed, floor length mirror I kept propped up against the wall adjacent to the entrance for those last-minute once-overs before leaving.

Gently pulling off the bandage on my arm, I inspected the forming bruise in the mirror. Sometimes I felt like my skin would never be free from the bruises of needles. My blonde hair is long and full, and cascades to my lower back and down the fronts of my shoulders. I have jagged, choppy bangs that I consistently push to the side, and large blue eyes that -according to my Grandmother- "shine like the sea on a sunny day". I set down my keys on the side table near the door and pushed the button next to the small blinking light on my answering machine. Yes, I'm one of the few people left who still keep a landline. I only have it because the government pays for it, along with my rent and utilities and even cable. The military insists upon me having it.

"Winry dear," My grandmother Pinako's voice sprang from the small machine "You've gotta find time to come to the house and clear out all stuff you've left here for the past 4 are nuts and bolts and gears and wires and God know's what else spilling out of these damn boxes. I don't know why you keep all this junk just to put it together, take it apart, and put it back together again, but you can't do it here anymore. You've got that big apartment in the city so take your crap there and get it out of what's soon to be my smoking lounge. Love you, and come for dinner sometime this week."

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost fell over. The woman is gutting the bedroom I grew up in and turning into some dark den with velvet-tufted walls and large animal heads mounted above a massive fireplace for her and all her friends to smoke cigars and clip coupons in. I don't understand why she can't just sip a glass of whiskey on the living room couch like a normal person. I sat down on my grey sectional and opened my laptop as the answering machine qued up my latest message.

Heavy, shuddered breathing for about ten seconds. Then a deep and raspy male voice.

"I only have eyes for you." With a click, the message ended.

Ew. Creepy and weird to say the least. I found myself drawn to the small box on my tufted ottoman that served as a coffee table. I got a knife from the kitchen and slit away the tape-covered seams. What I found inside nearly stopped my heart. Delicately cradled in crimson tissue paper was a human eyeball. The phone rang, startling me, and I leapt back with shock and dropped the box.

"No way that's real" I said out loud to no one. "Its gotta be some sick prank." I backed away as the small, sticky orb bounced slightly off the edge of the ottoman and rolled just a few inches on the hardwood floor towards me. The phone continued ringing until my voicemail answered and stern, smooth voice filled my apartment. Thats when I saw it. The thin, slick tube protruding from the back of the sphere, no doubt where the ocular nerve could be found.

"Winry, Mustang here. I need you to come see me right away. Its urgent."

My head swam as I stared at the detached eye, which had come to a stop and was now directly fixated on me. My heart pounded, my breathing labored, and I grabbed my keys and ran.

* * *

Central was always a swarming hive of worker bees, buzzing around from desk to desk, corner office to corner office, floor to floor from the water cooler and back. Officials ranking high and low would always be found, some clad in uniform and others in plain clothes, sitting at desks or standing together in groups or pairs staring at papers, computer screens, or phones with coffee cup in hand and their brows knit in determination; heavily focused on their current assignment. But my arrival today revealed all of that and then some. Central was less like a bee hive today and more like the floor at the New York Stock Exchange. Everyone was yelling, throwing papers, waving their arms wildly through the air, hollering at eachother or into whatever phone they were holding. Suddenly I wondered if my problem was really all that important. 1st Lieutenant Riza Anira met me at the door and quickly swept me across the room towards the largest corner office.

"Riza what's going on?" I questioned, watching Private Fuery sweat bullets as his eyes scanned his computer screen and Lieutenant Havoc light up cigarette after cigarette as if today was his last day on earth. "Everyone seems...unhinged."

Riza Anira turned her sharp chocolate eyes on me and answered in her usually cool manner, "We've received word that your situation with the military has been compromised and that information about you was leaked by members of Central. A lot of asses are on the line, and everyone is working on proving their innocence."

Riza always stayed calm and collect no matter what. She was forever the eye of the storm, a moment of quiet surrounded by chaos but completely unaffected by it. I longed for her never-frazzled nerves. The only thing that gave me that kind of serenity was a reoccurring dream I've had where I wake up surrounded by jelly donuts. She quickly climbed the ranks of the military for her critical thinking, ability to keep a cool head while under pressure, and for being the best damn sniper the Brigadier General had ever encountered. She was beautiful, tough, and had a glare that meant business. They didn't codename her 'Hawkeye' for nothing.

She escorted me to a corner office with glass walls inside of which sat Brigadier General Roy Mustang, a man pushing forty who managed to look younger with unruly black hair that fell around his ears and hard black eyes. He was speaking in hushed tones with someone over the phone while sitting behind an impressive mahogany desk. His features brightened when we made eye contact and he motioned me in to have a seat. I turned and gave a little wave to Riza as Mustang hung up the phone and slumped down in his leather chair, exhaling a breath of exhaustion and running a hand through his hair, showing his human side.

"Winry we've got problems." He started, massaging his temples with his fingertips and closing his eyes as he continued. "Has anything strange happened to you today? Anything at all?"

I launched into my explanation of the note, the voicemail, and the eyeball as he straightened up in his chair and took notes while nodding intently. He elaborated on what Hawkeye had told me and explained that a certain enemy knew about my involvement with the military and has demanded they end all medical testing or quote 'suffer the consequences. The reason everyone in the squadron was freaking out was because a typed letter was sent to Mustang's home listing the names of every person working in Central and citing every one of them, from the janitor all the way up to Mustang himself, as the source of their information. So like Hawkeye stated, everyone had to prove their innocence, or risk being court marshalled.

"As you know, this isn't the first time we've gotten threats regarding the advancements in medical science we've made," he continued. "But this is very different. We've been getting threats against your life specifically, which is of course incredibly alarming because no one's ever named you before. And now I see that not only do they know who you are, but they know what you look like, where you live, and why you're so important. We can't risk losing you Winry, and I don't mean that in a material sense. I mean it as a friend. I'm genuinely concerned for your life."

I had known Roy Mustang for years because he'd been running The Godsend Project from the very beginning. He and Riza had been there for me and my grandmother when we first learned of my abnormality and offered us protection, therapy, housing, whatever we needed to keep me a secret. I would work with dietitians and nutritionists regularly to better understand my hyper-fast metabolism, get bi-monthly physicals, give blood every month, and have transfusions when needed. All with the knowledge that someday soon, it would save the lives of millions of people every year.

I was born with an incredibly rare defect known as 'Perfect Blood'. We never realized I had it until I was 7, and the bacterial meningitis that claimed both my parents left me unharmed. I'd been tested for the virus once my parents had been diagnosed, and the doctors were spellbound to find that not only had I not been touched by the contageon, but that my full body scan had come back immaculate and my blood tests were completely pure. Their testing had supported a theory that my blood could possess the ability to clear any virus or disease that entered my body.

"She's a godsend," they told my grandmother. "She could mean salvation for the entire world. She's a perfect specimen of human being."

News of my supposedly perfect blood spread through the world like wildfire, the result of overly chatty doctors, and quickly mutated from a simple theory to a cure for diseases. I couldn't go back to school, I couldn't leave my house, I couldn't go anywhere or do anything without being chased through the streets by complete strangers clawing at me as if I were Christ returned to the earth. People were so desperate to be saved from their illnesses -their good judgement so clouded by mangled versions of the truth that had been spoon-fed to them by the media- that they were swarming me in public with knives and syringes in the hopes that tasting even a drop of my blood would bring them salvation. It was a terrifying childhood. When I turned 18 I went to see Mustang, a Colonel at the time, and told him that I would allow the military to use my body to find a cure for world's illnesses. This was something they were secretly hoping for all along, but Mustang made sure I grew up never feeling pressured into it, and to this day always reminds me that I can stop at any time. It's been 9 years since the experiments started, and Central was coming unfathomably close to a vaccine for HIV, and a complete cure for Leukemia.

"Winry I'm not willing to take any more risks when it comes to your safety, so until we find the traitor in Central and eliminate the people threatening to kill you, I'm assigning you a bodyguard." Mustang laced his fingers on the tabletop casually. I felt the heat of embarrassment flush my cheeks and I grimaced. A body gaurd? It was all incredibly over-dramatic in my opinion. I had been able to evade the occasional whack-job or lunatic over the years, while hiding away my condition as my very existence on earth had become like a memory from a dream for the rest of society. I kept to myself, I didn't have a job, I didn't have friends, and because of that my secret was safe. I handled all of this remarkably well at 27 years old. I was capable of taking care of myself and the last thing I needed was a babysitter.

I felt a shift in the atmosphere of not only Mustang's office, but of the entire open floor behind me. The loud voices in the room had suddenly dropped off to dull murmurs and hushed whispers back and forth amongst co-workers as about 50 sets of pondering eyes all seemed to follow the same moving target across the room. I heard the heavy foot falls of boots coming up behind me and then finally a soft rapping on the frame of the open door.

"Perfect timing." Mustang remarked as he stood to shake hands with the new presence. "Winry Rockbell, this is the person who will be in charge of your protection from now on. I'd like you to meet Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist."


	2. Chapter 2

-And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees,  
just as things grow in fast movies,  
I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

* * *

The drive back to my apartment was awkward to say the least. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Neither of us were happy with the arrangement, and neither of us fully understood exactly why Edward Elric was here. I stole a quick glance at him during the drive, his body language was clearly displaying his lack of enthusiasm. Elbow on the door, supporting a strong jaw as he gazed out onto the city streets and kept tired eyes looking anywhere but towards me. There was an air about him that I found extremely unsettling. So much in fact that I couldn't bring myself to truly look at him upon our meeting.

Slowing to stop at a red light gave me the opportunity to examine him a little closer while he remained focused on the city life outside the car. Even in his bored, slumped-over state I could see that he was a tall mass of lean muscle with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He had straight, rum-colored hair that was tied in a ponytail and fell between his shoulder blades and choppy, wild bangs that framed high cheekbones. He finally turned to face me, and I found myself leveled by piercing eyes more vivid than any amber or brandy I had ever seen. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't handsome.

"Are you gonna drive the car or what?" His eyes bore into my own like golden daggers when I snapped to and realized the light had since turned green and we were being honked and cursed at mercilessly.

The rest of the drive home was as silent as the start of it, and I was never so glad to be opening the door to my apartment where I could find something to busy myself with and try to lift the awkwardness. Walking in had revealed a small team of Mustang's men milling around my apartment, taking pictures, writing down information, general detective work. It was then that I realized the eyeball and box were in their possession. Lieutenant Jean Havoc ambled over and greeted me with his usual soft grin and casual nod, and then smiled wide at the sight of Edward and clapped him on the shoulder in friendly support.

"Don't worry Win," Jean smiled, "We're taking good care of your little occular friend." He motioned to the box he held, no doubt the contents of which caused my early morning freak-out.  
'

The team left about 20 minutes later, leaving me alone to figure out what to do with the brooding government official. We just stood there in my living room. So fucking awkwardly. I couldn't take it anymore.

"So what's your poison?" I asked him. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"Whatever you've got that's strong."

"How strong?"

"At this point I'll drink anti-freeze."

* * *

Two hours and a few drinks hadn't been enough to help us get to know eachother much, but it eased the tension, and helped us find a spit of common ground. We both were pushing thirty, we both lived in New York, we shared a mutual love of scotch and we agreed that the anchor on the 6 o'clock news wore the worst toupee on the planet. Not exactly a heart-to-heart, but it was progress. I sat cross-legged on my living room rug with my back propped against the couch as I pretended to be interested in the evening news, and slid my gaze over to the elephant in the room. His boots had been kicked off and he looked relaxed and happy, reclining on the chaise end of the grey sectional like a dog that had just finised a big steak dinner. It was good to know that it only took a few glasses of scotch to bring this guy down to earth. He wore snuggly-fitted black pants with a cotton navy crew neck that was loose enough to be comfortable but didn't hide the evidence that he was strong. Long sleeves fell lazily to his knuckles and thats when I noticed it. He wore a tight, black glove of what I suspected was some sort of nylon fabric on only his right hand.

"So Ed," I started in an attempt at light hearted conversation. "What exactly do you do for the military? I can't help but feel like you're not just some body guard." His sunny eyes darkened and he became slightly rigid in response to my query.

"Don't worry about it." He quipped, shrugging off my question.

"What does that mean? You're going to be living with me for God knows how long, we should at least try to get to know eachother." I reasoned. Narrowed eyes slid in my direction.

"I can sit around and bullshit with you if I have to, but believe me when I say that you don't need to know anything about me. Same as how I don't care to know anything about you."

I folded my arms and scoffed. I had never been so brutaly rebuffed in my life. His childish attitude wouldn't deter me, and I pressed on,

"Roy said you were in Moscow just before arriving today, where you vacationing?"

Letting out an exasperated growl he downed the remainder of his scotch, swung his legs off the couch and glared at me. "Lady, I dont take 'vacations'. My trip to and from Moscow was about 96 hours long and the only thing I brought with me was a really big gun."

* * *

I woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and the sound of Elric's voice in the livingroom. I slipped out of bed and threw on a silk robe before exiting the master bedroom. I found him on his cell phone, pacing back and forth across my living room with a mug in his hand, complaining. His long golden hair was down and damp from being freshly showered, and striding past him granted my nose the pleasent scent of Starbuck's Holiday Roast. It was only late October, but the cool weather months were my favorite and I wasnt wasting time. I poured myself a cup and eavsdropped.

"You're sure this is really necessary? I can't help but feel like you're still punishing me for the plane incident." The quiet of the room allowed me to hear Mustang's recognizable voice respond,

*I'll never stop finding ways to repay you for the stress you gave me during that 'incident', but this honestly has nothing to do with that. This is far more important. SHE is far more important.*

Edward stopped pacing at hearing this, and his sharp eyes connected with mine. "Mustang, what are you not telling me?"

*Elric, there's a lot that I'm not telling you, because I can't. But what I do need you to understand is that she needs to be protected at all costs. You know as well as I do that no one is more qualified for this than you. Fullmetal, consider this the most important assignment of your career. Keep Winry Rockbell alive.*

Edward slipped his iphone into his back pocket, crossed the room and leaned in very close to me. He smelled fresh from his morning shower, and I was transfixed by golden eyes. I felt warmth creeping its way into my cheeks, betraying my attempt at indifference. His eyes suddendly narrowed and he frowned. "Why does Mustang give such a damn about you?"

I stumbled back a step as his rude question. "That's none of your business." I pulled open the brown paper bag that sat on the kitchen table to inspect the contents, and found muffins and organic strawberry jam. "Did you order breakfast?"

"I got groceries delivered." He replied, sliding into a chair across the table from me and taking a muffin. "You had no food."

I did have food. Sort of. Most days my fridge and cabinets consisted of chinese takeout, beer, cheetos, ramen noodles, half-eaten hoagies, and usually a cake because it was someone's birthday somewhere. Any fruit I persuaded myself to buy would be forgotten and then one day resurface with blue fuzz growing on one side. I opened my fridge and looked in on shelves stocked with almond milk, fruits and veggies, bread, meats, cage-free eggs, you name it. My cabinets were full of brown rice, quinoa, chia seeds, pasta, organic tomato sauce, and any other healthy item a person could come up with.

"Rockbell," He started, pausing to sip his coffee, "How do you eat the way you eat and have a body like that?"

I blushed, "What do you mean?" He raised a brow at me over the rim of his mug.

"I'm not blind, woman." His gaze fell down the front of me before turning to the open newspaper next to him. I looked down and saw that my silk robe had fallen open to reveal me in tiny cotten sleep shorts and a white crop top that did little to hide the fact that my c-cups had noticed the cool air in the apartment and were now standing at attention. I let out a squeek and quickly pulled my robe over my toned stomach. He grinned.

"Relax Rocky, you're not the first broad I've seen half naked. Not too shabby, though."

Puffing up like an angry cat, I sat down and glared at him; contemplating how many years I'd spend in jail for physically assaulting a ranking officer of the military and if it would be worth it. I decided to take the high road and tore into a muffin instead.

"So, what was the plane incident?" I was met with a surprised look followed by more cocky grinning. "Thats none of your business." Although he used my words against me, I had managed to catch him in a fairly pleasent mood, and decided to use it to my advantage.

"If you tell me what the plane incident is, I'll tell you why I'm so important to the military." His grin turned into a 1000-watt smile, and I found it hard to breathe.

"Remember several years back when that plane landed in the Hudson River?" My eyes widened.

"That was you?"

"It was an accident."

"People could have died!" I exclaimed.

"Well they didn't, because of me. Like I said, it was a fuck-up and I handled it."

"I thought the pilot landed the plane."

"And as far the world is concerned, he did." He gave me knowing look. "Okay, your turn."

My eyes focused on the swirling coffee in my cup. Suddenly I couldn't open up. I had been terrified of telling my secret to anyone. I knew it made sense to tell Ed, but I had become so afraid of letting anyone in. The very few times in my life that I had tried, it had blown up in my face. I decided to be more vague than he was.

"I... have a rare disorder." I started, looking up at him. "The military has found it to be...useful." He opened his mouth to say something when his phone vibrated on the table. He swiped his finger across the bottom of the screen and hit the speaker button.

"Mustang! Missing me already?"

*Fullmetal did you charge $200 to your expense account on groceries from Whole Foods?*

We grinned at eachother.


	3. Chapter 3

-She may have looked normal on the outside,  
but she was deliciously complicated inside.

-Jeffrey Eugenides

* * *

Time passed quicker than I had expected as we eventually fell into a rhythm. It wasn't perfect though, things were still a bit akward because we were forced to go everywhere together. Everyday we danced around eachother on eggshells, but on the road out of 'agonizingly uncomfortable' we kept hitting potholes and blowing tires, stranding us in the limbo of stuffy silences and pink-stained cheeks on my part. Potholes like the time he had to come with me to my gyno appointment. And the time he burst into the master bathroom and saw me naked in the shower after I slipped and crashed to the floor. And the time we were in the building laundry room switching loads over and somehow one of my new lacey red thongs had gotten into his wash of whites, effectively staining all of his socks and white under shirts Pepto-bismol pink.

It was the strangest thing. I had spent years alone, nearly isolated from the world like Rapunzel high up in her tower. For the first time since high school I had someome to talk to who didn't know my secret. Someone who wasn't taking a blood sample or injecting me with a virus or asking when I'd finished my last period. For the first time ever, I had someone in my apartment. This was something I had always dreamed of! I had spent so many lonely days and nights out on my fire escape, looking out on the streets below wishing desperatly for someone to talk to. Someone to bond with. But always knowing that I would never have the chance to know another person until I was ready to step away from the military. Now I had someone here. Everyday I had this intelligent, well-traveled, smart-mouthed character in my home, and I had no idea what to do with him. If you had asked me a month ago what I would do in a situation like this I would've seen myself relentlessly picking his brain, hanging on his every word, trying to soak up as much information he could offer about the world and what it was like to actually live in it. But we filled the silences with noise from the tv, or him on the phone with Mustang or some other government official, or with the loud rock music that echoed from the guest bedroom when he was working out.

"We need to go out," He stated one evening. "I'm going stir-crazy, we need a drink and some greasy food."

I looked up at him over the top of the book my nose was stuck in.

"I'm not really supposed to go anywhere that isn't military grounds." I lied nervously. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well what Mustang doesn't know won't kill him. Come on, The Rangers are playing Toronto in a few minutes, and there's a 70 inch flat screen at Kildaire's." I fidgeted in my club chair. Its not that the military wouldn't allow me to have a life, it's that going outside made me nervous. As much as I dreamed of being a part of the world, my mind would always flash back to being a little kid who didn't understand why everyone knew my name, and why strangers in the street would sob on their knees in front of me, begging me to heal them. All I could remember was the fear and confusion, and how after taking a stab at going to a public highschool I couldn't take it anymore and I shut myself off from the world.

"Someone's been threatening my life," I reasoned. "Is this really a good idea?" He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. The contact was all-too brief.

"Nothing's happened in weeks. Just relax, you'll be with me." I pulled on my boots and jacket and we left.

"Besides," He continued as I locked the door behind me. "If shit hits the fan just remember, I'm licenesed to carry concealed." This did very little to calm my nerves.

* * *

Kildaire's Irish Pub was only about 6 blocks from my apartment, and sat on a corner at an intersection crammed with small restaurants, bars, sketchy tattoo parlours and head shops. We'd only walked for 5 minutes but looking around I suddenly could relate to Dorothy when she said "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore". That's the crazy thing about New York. Just a few minutes of walking could be the difference between million-dollar residences with uniformed doormen, and dirty rock clubs with vomit on the front step. We entered the crowded bar and got lucky, finding two seats at the bar in perfect view of the game which had just dropped puck. We ordered a couple glasses of whiskey and hunkered down. An hour into the game and three glasses of whiskey later I was finally feeling relaxed. I had a burger in my belly and a warm tingling in all of my extremities, and I was also feeling brave. The game went to intermission and I turned to Ed.

"I never knew you were into sports." I said, stealing a french fry from his plate. "Do you play any?" He drained his glass and made eye contact with the bartender, silently asking for another.

"Yeah I played hockey when I was a teenager. It was a good outlet for me at the time."

"Any others?" I prodded, trying to keep conversation going.

"Well, I tried baseball for a couple weeks but it was too slow-paced and I kept getting thrown off the field for fighting." He smirked. "Hockey is great because it's constant action, and when you punch someone in the face all they do is sit you in a box for 4 minutes." This earned a giggle from me, and a genuine smile from him. It was interesting to say the least, finding out that Edward previously had a violent streak. Considering that he was protecting me for the military, I wondered how violent he still was and my thoughts drifted to the large duffel bag he'd brought with him at the apartment. I had poked around in it one day while he was in the shower and it looked like Rambo's wet dream. 3 different hand-guns, leather rolls full of large knives along with throwing daggers, boxes of ammunition, a couple shotguns, and a sniper rifle. It was more than excessive. As alarming as the arsenal was, what truly concerned me was finding the first aid kit in his room. It was larger and better-stocked than any kit I had ever encountered, and contained more than just band-aids and alcohol wipes. Along with the usuals I found things like numbing sprays, gauze, liquid colodion, and needles and thread for stitching wounds. Just what did Ed think was going to happen to me? And what had happened to him that made him keep things like that on hand?

My mind snapped back to the present when I heard alot of yelling behind us. Ed and I looked over our shoulders at two men in the bar who were drunk and extremely angry at eachother. They slurred their insults and stood nose-to-nose, cursing over the noise from the resumed game that not many people were paying much attention to anymore. One of them pushed the other, and that started the wrestling. I couldn't help rolling my eyes. The tension in the room continued to rise as on-lookers and friends of the brawlers started yelling back and forth, before starting their own fights. My heart began to race. Seeing people punching and pushing eachother, tearing at clothes and screaming only flashed me back to being a child and the scary things I had witnessed when going outside. It flashed me back to when I was 9, trying to shop in the Union Square open market with my Grandmother Pinako. I incited a riot when a desparate homeless person recognized me and bit me, trying to drink my blood because he thought I would cure his hepatitis. He attacked me, people attacked him, other homeless folk joined in the fighting, riot police showed up; vendor's booths were destroyed, crushed bundles of lavendar and daisies littered the street and the petals floated away in the currents of maple syrup from the smashed bottles on the sidewalks. Entire tables of pies had been turned over in the hysteria, canvases belonging to local artists had been torn or stolen, and as the dust settled all that remained were the crying eyes of the vendors, shaking their heads in disbelief. And even though my Grandmother claimed it wasn't so, I knew it was all my fault. It wouldn't have happened if I had just stayed home.

Edward was watching the scene unfold with amusement, biting into his burger and chewing happily, very entertained by the unfolding pandamonium. He turned to say something but his smile quickly evaporated when I locked eyes with him. He could see my anxiety, the shakey hands, the worried brows, and he leaned close to me to shout above the noise.

"Are you okay?" I looked to the swarming crowd and shook my head slowly. The crunching of broken chairs, the smashing of bottles over peoples heads, it was all too much. Suddenly a man with blood running down his face was shoved out of the fighting mass. He lost his footing and stumbling, went head-on into my gut and knocked me clear off my barstool and onto the floor with a thud. I heard Ed curse loudly as he threw his food aside to shove the guy off of me. The fall caused my head to collide with the concrete floor, and the room began to spin. I couldn't focus. There was so much noise, so much shouting, so much breaking glass. The flashing red and blue lights from outside only made it worse. My throat squeezed involuntarily and tears sprang to my eyes as terror filled me when I realized I couldn't catch my breath. I was having a panic attack. A pair of golden eyes came into focus, and I could hear my name being said over and over. I found myself being pulled upright, and I was only a few inches away from these beautiful golden orbs that peirced through the fog around me. First there where four sets, circling eachother. Then the four became two, and the two morphed back into one as the fuzziness of my vision faded and I could see the detail of Edward's face close to mine, asking If I could hear him. I finally managed to nod my head, and he helped me stand. I still couldn't catch my breath, and my head felt like it was splitting. The urge to cry was building rapidly in my chest, and I wanted to run out of the room badly but my knees felt too weak to move. My eyes caught a gleam of light, a reflection bouncing off black metal, and that's when my mind caught up to what was happening. Someone in the brawl had brandished a gun. My heart lept in my chest and I latched onto Edward's arm, my mind screaming to alert him but my damn mouth just couldn't get the words out. He became alarmed when we made eye contact, and thats when the shots rang out.

* * *

I watched a police cruiser pull away from the bar, the backseat holding the raging gunman. He had shot his opponant in the foot, but we all know it could've been so much worse. I sat on the short brick wall that stood flush against the bar, a place for smokers usually, as I watched a few police officers take statements from Edward as well as a few other witnesses. I held a zip-lock baggie of ice on the side of my head and pulled my jacket closer around me. It was late, and I was cold and tired and still trying to come down from my anxiety attack. After what felt like forever he finally came over to me and helped me up so we could walk home.

"I'm sorry about that," He started quietly. "this wasn't supposed to happen. How are you feeling?" I wanted to yell at him for convincing me to leave to house. I wanted to scream at him for all the awful memories that had been brought to the surface by this. I wanted to clobber him over the head for being the reason that I was cold and shaken, with a raging headache and dread in my stomach. But I knew it wasn't really his fault. He didn't have anything to do with the fight. My bubbling anger subsided when I felt his hand hovering at the small of my back, his fingertips making contact ever-so-slightly supporting my slow, careful steps home. This small touch, this barely-there contact, somehow gave me the small ability to whimper, asking him to please just get me home.

It felt like an eternity, but we finally made it back. Elric used his copy of my house key to open the door and gently ushered me inside shutting the door behind us. He tured on the side-table lamp casting the apartment in soft, low-wattage incandecense and my heart lurched. A tall and dark figure was standing on the opposite end of the room, near the windows in front of the master bedroom door. Someone was in my apartment, waiting for us. Fear had me frozen in place, but Ed moved in a flash. The gun that was previously hidden in his waistband was drawn on the figure and he was shouting for the man to put his hands up. We couldn't see any details, the room was too dark. We could only make out the silouette of the figure, his head cocked to the side in contemplation. After a few tense seconds went by with no movement from the figure and Ed's orders being ignored, he shifted his gun's aim and fired. The figure barely moved. Ed and I stared at eachother in confusion, then back at the man. His silouette swayed slightly from the bullet's contact with his leg, but he didn't utter so much as a moan. I watched Edward and could see the gears turning in his mind. His alert eyes snapped towards me.

"Turn on the ceiling light." I still couldn't move. My raging anxiety was back with full force and my chest was heaving. I felt stupid and useless, and it only made me want to cry. I felt him stride past me as he lowered his weapon and flipped the switch on the wall just past me. The sight I was met with was worse than anything I'd ever seen. My world went black and I crumpled to the floor, and I could vaguely recall hearing Ed shout my name over the static in my mind.


	4. Chapter 4

She had blue skin, and so did he.  
He kept it hid, and so did she.  
They searched for blue Their whole life through,  
Then passed right by-  
And never knew.

-Shel Silverstein

* * *

I awoke to the sound of footsteps on hardwood accompanied by hushed murmurings and the clicking of shutters on cameras. The were people in my living room, and their voices were familiar. My mind was still trying to clear the fog, and I couldn't open my eyes yet, but I felt safe. I was cacooned in soft warmth and had something wet and cool on my forehead and even though my head was still spinning and my stomach felt weak, a clean and musky scent hit me and I felt wonderful. I could hear Ed and Mustang -who never went anywhere without Riza in tow- conversing with people who I could only assume were from homicide. Havoc would deffinatly be here, and there was a good possiblity that Col. Maes Hughes from Investigations would be here as well, offering his shrewd mind and observant eye along with an endless display of pictures of his adorable three year-old who's finger he was securely wrapped around. I heard Elrics's strong and smooth voice coming closer, but it was muffled and I couldn't make out what he was saying. A doorknob turned, and that's when my mind realized where I was. I was in Edward's bed. His voice lowered upon entering the room.

"She's been out for more than an hour, but she'll be okay." The wet object that rested on my forehead was removed much to my dismay. The coolness was so refreshing. I heard the sink in the bathroom run for a moment and then as if reading my mind I felt a warm hand smooth my bangs aside and the wet object -a washcloth- was brought back to my skin, now colder than before. The warm hand lingered for a moment to softly stroke my hair. It was heaven. Roy Mustang's stern voice interrupted my paradise.

"Be careful there, Fullmetal." The hand went away. Footsteps signaled the men's exit and the door softly clicked shut behind them. It was then that I found I could crack my eyes open and peer into the darkness. A sliver of yellow light from the living room slashed across the floor and molded over the chocolate fur blanket I was under, giving me just enough light to see around me. The guest bedroom of my apartment had always been empty, except for the occasional time when Granny Pinako would visit, have too much whiskey, and need to sleep over. I'd always kept it neat and tidy, with eggshell walls and crisp white sheets, accented by sandy neutrals in the throw pillows and the duvet cover. Edward moving in had changed its appearance quite a bit.

It was still kept tidy, but the small bookshelf holding cook books and scented candles now also was home to miniature boxes of bullets and swiss army knives. The copies of The New Yorker that I usually had on the nightstand by the table lamp were now copies of Guns and Ammo Magazine and Modern Science Monthly. He even changed the linens on the bed. My crisp white sheets and honey blankets were neatly folded on the top shelf of the closet and replaced with charcoal and black egyptian cotton, and from the feel I was guessing the thread count was roughly a billion. The fur blanket pooling over me was soft, lush and heavy. Guilt surged in my stomach when I began to suspect that the fur was real. My arms slid along the cool sheets to snake under the pillow as I stretched, and thats when my hand connected with something cold and hard. Edward's gun. Most of the service men in Central carried guns, Hawkeye would keep hers on the dinner table next to her glass of red wine. But what kind of work did Elric do that afforded him this kind of luxury bedding and also forced him to sleep with a gun under his pillow? The bedroom door slowly opened again, and Ed came in and shut the door behind him, bathing us in darkness. The only light source was the bright moon outside. Having just emerged from behind the clouds, it poured its soft white beams into the room and I drew my eyes to the golden gaze that cut through it all.

"Welcome back." He said quietly. The mattress sank a bit as he sat down next to me. I still hadn't managed to sit up, but I was awake. "How's your head? You've hit it twice tonight, I was starting to think you'd been concussed."

"Still a little foggy, but better. Why didn't you put me in my room?"

"Our friend was blocking the door." He responded darkly. Memories rushed back and my stomach lurched. The man standing in my apartment was dead. The only reason he looked tall is because he had been suspended from the ceiling, and we couldn't see his dangling feet in the dark. Someone had broke into my home and hung a person in my living room. There had been a note stapled to the man's shirt, with typed letters saying 'Come to the Promised Land with me.'

"Mustang and his men removed the body and are bringing it back to central for evaluation. We can already tell the guy was dead before he was strung up."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"There's a big-ass hole in his chest, my guess is someone got him with a sawn-off." I shot up in bed and my hand flew to my mouth, my head spun and I thought I was going to be sick. Edward threw the fur blanket off of me and moved me to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. My head was pushed down between my knees.

"Breathe." He ordered calmly. My hair was pushed off from my neck and I felt something cold and hard wrap itself flush against my nape. It wasn't the washcloth, that had fallen on the floor. And it definatly wasn't one of Ed's guns, but I couldn't place what this was. A minute later the object was moved from my neck and I slowly began to sit up.

"We need to talk about this." Ed started, "I know it's scary, but I need you to pull yourself together. I can't have you passing out or having panic attacks every five minutes. There's still more that Investigations and Homicide needs to do outside your room, dusting for finger prints and stuff like that. We can't go walking through there so for tonight you're gonna stay in here with me."

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks and I was silently thanking the darkness around us for hiding it.

* * *

Edward had loaned me a black, short-sleeved cotton t-shirt to wear to bed since I couldn't go in my room yet. I took the opportunity to change while he was in the shower. His shirt smelled like him. Clean and crisp and a little earthy. A slight muskiness that sent involuntary waves of warmth through my stomach. The guest bathroom was a similar size to the master bath, and originally had a tub but no shower. When I moved in I immediatly saw that the bathrooms be updated with glass shower stalls that reached from floor to ceiling. This was now proving to be both a blessing and a curse as Ed had left the bathroom door open a jar to vent, and I had accidentally caught a glance at his naked form. To call him sexy would be an understatment, and I knew falling asleep next to him that night wouldn't be easy.

His long golden hair fell free from its usual restraint and clung to his muscled back. His narrow hips were rooted under sculpted obliques and his ass was every woman's dream. A ball of fire raged straight down to my lady. But before I could get myself too wound up I noticed two alarming abnormalities. The first of which, was that he was covered in scars. Everything from the great to the miniscule, slashing, dotting and smattering across him in every direction, on his back and legs. Wounds bad enough to leave tissue so discolored that I could notice from across the bedroom. I couldn't see the front of him, but I could only suspect with despair that it would be more of the same. The second abnormality, far more curious than the first, were his limbs. Two of them were fake.

His right arm and left leg were prosthetic. I had seen many soldiers at Central come back from war and be fitted with artificial limbs, but none had ever resmembled these. These were made from a gleaming metal alloy, and matched the size, shape and length of his natural limbs. His fake leg resembled a real one, starting from mid-thigh it had a sculpted calf muscle and and a molded acheillies tendon covering a connection to his foot. He even had individual toes.

His arm was even more impressive. Like his leg, it had a completely normal range of motion and his movement was as natural and voluntary as it was with his organic limbs. Long, gleaming fingers were rinsing suds from his hair and my eyes fell down to the plates that made up his forearm and led to his elbow. His elbow and upper arm were bolted over with long steel plates that began to shingle at the curve of his large shoulder, like tiles on a roof. All of this came to rest at base plating that encased the periferie of his arm socket. Wide spans of steel with ragged, uneven edges were bolted roughly into his shoulder blade and followed under his arm to his ribcage. I could only suspect that his front would have similar plating bolted over his chest and probably even anchored into his clavacle. Realization slammed into me at that moment.

This was why he wore that black glove on his hand. This was why I never saw him in short sleeves, or bare feet, even though he'd been here for a month now. This is why his foot falls sounded different from eacother, one hitting the ground more solidly than the other. I was brought back to reality by the whine of the faucets being shut off and the sound of the stall door opening. I scrambled into bed and grabbed a copy of The New Yorker and flipped to a random page. My heart fluttered in my chest wildly. A few moments later the bathroom door swung wide and Edward came ambling out in a cloud of steam, shaking a towel over his head to dry his hair. He was fully clothed in sweats and a long sleeves again, and the glove was back. My heart was tugging at the sight of this. He didn't need to hide from me. I didn't care about the limbs, and I didn't care about the scars. Shame filled me as I realized that I now knew something extremely intimate about him, a sensitive subject no doubt since he was always covered up, and he knew nothing about me. Even though he was clueless to my discovery, I couldn't help feeling guilty.

The stoic expression he wore earlier was replaced by a furrowed brow and a scowl as he turned off the ceiling light and climbed into bed. He turned his face from me, and he rolled over to shut off the table lamp on his nightstand. Bathed in darkness, I began to sink down under the sheets when his stern voice sliced through the quietness.

"You shouldn't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, Rockbell. You may not like what you find."

I froze. He knew what I had done, and he was angry. He looked back at me over his shoulder through large, menacing eyes and his voice became low and level.

"Don't EVER spy on me again."

And just like that, the room was quiet again and he was facing the window once more. I layed there, propped on my elbow, utterly stupified and trying to figure out how in God's name he had known I was looking. My heart clenched and I slipped under the covers. Falling asleep was indeed difficult that night.

A/N: Many thanks for all of the heart-warming reviews. To answer a question presented to me by a reader, I'm not exactly sure how I got the inspiration for this story. I simply decided to write the kind of fanfiction I wanted to read. And many of my ideas come to me while riding the subway to work everyday. Updates will come regularly, I've written most of this story over the past several months and pour over the chapters constantly until i'm satisfied with them. 'Hot off the press" writing is not something I'd ever upload, and I have no intentions of leaving this story to rot forever without an ending.


	5. Chapter 5

Numinous (adj.) describing an experience that makes  
you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet  
attracted-the powerful, personal feeling  
of being overwhelmed and inspired

pronunciation - 'nU-mi-nus

* * *

A few days went by and like usual, we had slipped back into awkward territory. This time the fault was entirely my own. In truth I felt guilty for what I had done. It was honestly an accident, but when I walked past the slightly opened door and caught a glance at him I couldn't tear my eyes away. From the way I gaped at him, God only knows what he was thinking. He still covered up, and he hadn't said a word to me in days besides soft grunts of acknowlegment or one-word responses to any queries of mine. He hardly even looked at me. He had completely shut me out, and I found myself feeling defeated. Even though we hadn't come closer to figuring out who was threatening me, we had started to move beyond tolerable coexistance and into something more comfortable. We were starting to get along, and then I dragged it in the woods and shot it dead.

The crime scene had since been re-opened after longer than expected, allowing me to once again sleep in my own room and it couldn't have come sooner. I had spent the better part of a week showering in Elric's bathroom and sleeping in his bed. He didn't sleep next to me after the first night, he had since resigned himself to the couch which probably eased the tension for him but when I slid between his soft sheets the uneasiness washed over me. He was on the couch and I was in his bed and it was all because I was a peeping tom. Five days of this was more than I could take.

I was curled up in my over-stuffed club chair reading when he came into the living room. He was on his phone.

"Okay...I'll let her know... Keep me posted. ...Not yet, but soon. Everything feels alright so far. Okay... see ya." He slid his phone into his back pocket and sat down on the tufted ottoman across from me.

"That was General Mustang." He started. I closed my book slowly and raised my head to meet his gaze for the first time days. The gruff mask he had been wearing was still firmly in place. "After examining the body they've found that it wasn't a body at all. It was an intricatly-crafted, fabricated dummy. It was mostly a solid mass of silicone inside."

I blinked in surprise.

"It was a fake? Why would someone go through so much trouble to do all this? And where exactly would they get a fake body?"

"They're actually more common than you think. Everytime you watch a gory horror film you're seeing an example of one of these bodies. Its basically a life-size prosthetic crafted by makeup effects and fabrication artists for the film and tv industry. A talented artist can make a fake body realistic-looking enough to fool human senses. Until you cut it open, that is." He then let out a sigh and ran his gloved hand through his hair in frustration, loosening his ponytail a bit.

"We don't know why its being done, its really fucking annoying. If I didn't know any better I would say its some punk-ass kid messing with us, but this was designed and created by a professional. The eyeball was the same as the body, a very convincing fake."

I found a speck of relief in midst of this new information. No one had been hurt. At least not yet. As if Edward had read my mind he added,

"The new problem that the prosthetics bring to light is how we should proceed. This enemy may have done this with the hope that we wouldn't take him seriously and therefore drop our gaurd. We don't know how long he'll continue with the fakes before graduating to actual killing. These things aren't exactly cheap or easy to make. He could save himself alot of time and effort if he just kills someone. I don't like that we're sitting ducks just waiting for something to happen, but we don't have nearly enough information to make any moves."

In short, he was saying that we were basically sitting bait for a psychopath who could strike at any moment.

"Do we have any information on who this guy is?" I inquired.

"Hughes acquired the lobby and hallway security footage from the building manager. Investigations has been pouring over the tapes for a few days now. While you and I were out at the bar, the security camera picked up the image of a man dressed in dark clothes paying off the super to let him into your apartment." He scowled, and began to crack his knuckles on his left hand. "Needless to say, I'm gonna have a little chat with the super and convice him to skip town." I gulped.

"And because the super gave this guy a key, he can now come and go as he pleases. Which is why a locksmith is coming tomorrow to change the locks." I fanned myself with my hand, suddenly feeling over-heated and uncomfortable. I think he could sense my uneasiness because his voice suddenly softened.

"Everything's going to be okay." My eyes met his, and for the first time in days he wasn't cold. He got up from where he was sitting and crossed the living room to open a window, letting the icy air of late November blow into the room. He turned to me again.

"As long as I'm here, you're safe."

* * *

I found myself awake in the middle of the night, shivering uncontrollably. My room was beyond frigid, to the point where I could see my breath. I sat up and quickly pulled my silk robe around me as I scurried out the the living room to adjust the thermostat. It was 3 a.m. and when I entered the darkness of the living room I discovered the culprit of the temperature drop. I had forgotten to close the window Ed had opened earlier, and when I went to sleep that night I had opened several more in my attempt to relieve my sudden and unexpected hot flash. I quickly shut and locked them all, and thats when I noticed the sliver of yellow light coming from underneath the guest bedroom door. My first instict was to investigate, but as I had learned, curiosity killed the cat. I was about to head back to my room when I heard a groan come from his room. Deciding that cats had nine lives, I krept closer and put my ear to the door. I held my breath and listened.

"Fuck." I heard him grind out softly, followed by labored breathing. I jumped back from the door and blushed furiously. I thought for sure he was in there masturbating, until I heard him swear again more clearly followed by,

"I knew I should've modified earlier." I was sure I would regret this, but I knocked softly on his door and the murmuring stopped.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly through the door. "I...I saw your light on, I know the house is cold. I forgot to shut the windows." After a few beats of silence I figured I he was still grouchy and I began to turn away, when the door opened a jar and Ed looked out at me with tired eyes.

"Yea I'm fine," He said as he leaned against the door frame and scratched his head lazily. "I'm sorry if I woke you, I can't sleep." I noticed a light sheen of sweat on his brow and he was trying to hide that he was panting. I burned with embarrassment, convinced that I had just caught him in the act when I noticed the way he was standing. I thought he was leaning against the door frame out of exhaustion, but he was completly supporting his body weight on his right leg. The leg I knew to be his organic one. His right arm hung limply at his side and his flesh hand was holding his shoulder in a way I had never seen him do before.

"Did you need something?" He asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. Without thinking I gently pushed the door aside so I could get closer to him and my hand found his forehead.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" I questioned. "You don't look like yourself. You seem like...you're in pain."

His eyes fell away from mine and I could see him trying to drum up an excuse for me. Maybe it was the cold, or exhaustion, but for whatever reason he sighed and fessed up.

"Sudden and extreme temperature changes make my body hurt." He shifted his weight a little and winced. "Come in, I need to sit down."

I shut the door behind me and sat on the bed as he limped toward the bathroom. I watched him in fascination. I hadn't know him for long, but the only version of him I'd been witness to was powerful, confident and graceful in his movements. Yet even in his weakened state there was still a magnetic energy about him. I was drawn to him like a moth to flames, and I itched to know all I could about this peculiar man.

He returned to the bed dressed in long gym shorts and a black tank carrying two hand towels that he had soaked in scalding water from the shower and wrung out. The steam billowed off the towels as he held them in his steel hand and he sat next to me, placing one over his shoulder and chest plate and the other over his thigh where metal met flesh.

"You've already seen these, so I guess there's not much use in hiding from you anymore." His eyes closed and he let out a groan as his head hung down. I watched his strong flesh hand massaging the skin around his thigh as his brow furrowed and he grit his teeth. He was absolutly in pain.

"Can I do anything to help? I have Motrin." I offered. He shook his head and exhaled.

"Not really, its just something that's gotta run its course."

Seeing his metal limbs up close was even more hypnotizing than from my previous vantage point. I took notice of every detail. Plates held together by bolts and screws of various sizes, irridescent bubbles of light reflecting off the grooves of the cold surface. His fingers were long and slender and strong-looking, and I watched as he lifted back the steaming towel to examine his leg. His flesh fingers pressed and manipulated the skin running along the edge of his prosthetic, and I saw what I believed could be the source of some of his discomfort. Angry, inflamed flesh raged around his thigh. The puffy skin met steel in twisted puckers forming a jagged border of bleeding cracks and dry patches. When he pulled away the towel from his shoulder, I found more of the same.

"This frigid weather is a killer." He said, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. "I should've had my automail updated for the cold months awhile ago, but I've been putting it off."

"Automail?"

"It's what these are. Autonomous, sensory, robotic extremeties." He replied, finally looking at me. "My nerves are connected to them in the ports at my mid-thigh and shoulder. That's why I can move them like normal limbs. They recieve information from my brain via the nerves just like an average body would, and respond accordingly." I was stunned. Partially at what I was hearing and also because of how open he was being. He continued.

"When the weather gets really cold like this, the limbs need to be changed to a different alloy. Something that doesn't get as cold. Steel is great most of the year, but when it gets cold it makes my muscles stiff and achy, and the skin that lies flush to the metal can get frost bite. The hot towels help, but my skin is cracked and it stings from the dryness." A thought popped into my mind at hearing this, and I told him to sit tight while I dashed to my room for something. I returned with a small tube of shea butter-based hand cream.

"May I?" I asked. He blinked at me in surprise and nodded, moving the towel from his shoulder as I sat next to him. I deposited some hand cream onto my finger tips and gently smoothed it over the cracking, sensitive skin. His eyes connected with mine and my heart began to race.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No," he responded. "It's helping."

A few moments of stale silence dragged by as I continued smoothing my hand cream over his clavacle, down his shoulder blade, then along his ribcage. It was when my palms were caressing his smooth and strong chest that I found it difficult to breathe.

"I'm sorry about the last few days." He started quietly. "I've been kind of a bastard to you." I knelt on the floor to start working on his leg.

"Don't apologize, I deserved it. I'm the one who should be saying sorry." He suddenly stopped me when he took me by the wrist, and my head snapped up to meet his gaze.

"I just want you to know that you don't need to be afraid of me." I paused to absorb this and opened my mouth to respond when his phone buzzed on the night stand. He reached over to it as I stood from my kneeling position and took his towels to hang over the shower stall door to dry.

"Its Roy," He called to me. I re-entered the bedroom as he fired away a text response and set his phone down again. "An hour ago I let him know that I would need to be modified tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to it."

I made my way to the door when his quiet voice stopped me.

"Thanks for the help Rocky, I mean it." I smiled and nodded, bidding him goodnight.

* * *

The days that followed had made me spectator to a wide range of Edward's emotions. His automail modification was successful, I had been gone with him to the hospital at Central for the procedure. When he was wheeled out of the engineer's O.R. he was exhausted, light-headed and nauseous. Softly muttering about the pain and how he needed to lie down. My doctor's needed a blood sample from me and since it had been awhile since my last check-up, I decided to let them admit me overnight and do the works. The works included full body scans, MRI's, CAT scans, blood testing, a general physical and an endurance test. They liked to keep regualar tabs on how my body was behaving, and we usually did all of this two or three times a year.

When Elric's engineers told me that he would need to be kept overnight for observation I knew I couldn't go home without him so I elected to stay. When I asked what room in the hospital he would be in, they shot eachother nervous looks and informed me that he was staying elsewhere and that it was off limits to civilians. The next morning I meandered over to Central HQ, having finished all of my tests and decided to pop in on some aquaintances if they were around. The main level of Central was its normal buzzing business, I waved to a few familiar faces and found Hawkeye and General Mustang walking towards his office in deep conversation when they spotted me.

"Winry! What a surprise! We thought you would've left by now." Riza said with a perplexed look about her. They both knew I was in tow for Ed's modification, and just like the engineers before them, I noticed an exchange of worrisome glances. I once again brushed it off and replied with a smile,

"Yea I'm just waiting for Ed. I haven't seen him since he was admitted yesterday. Any idea where he is? I can't exactly leave without him." The General sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

"If I had to guess, he probably started his day by barking at the doctors and engineers, then hollering at the cooks in the Mess Hall to give him a massive breakfast at astronomical protein levels, and now he's probably in the gym beating the crap out of the new Privates and causing thousands of dollars of damage." I reeled back in stupor. This didn't sound like the same man who I'd been living with. I followed them as we wound our way through a maze of hallways and up took an elevator down two floors. As we entered the gym lobby every person we passed sputtered and gaped at the sight of Roy Mustang, and stood ram-rod straight to salute him as we walked by. His midnight eyes hadn't emerged from under his furrowed brow, and Riza nearly lost her usual collected facade just trying to keep up with the irritated General.

We stepped out onto the runner's catwalk that snaked its way along the parifarie of the massive open gym. Soldiers halted mid-stride to salute Roy, huffing a wheezing as Mustang motioned them at ease so they could continue as they were. I stepped to the railing and looked out over a fitness guru's wet dream. The Training Facility at Central was truly state-of-the-art. Top level machinery ran in rows with an expansive free-weight area to the left. Towards the far back of the room was an open floor for stretching and floor excersizes and even a boxing ring. The military held strict rules for physical fitness for anyone who served in the field. Body Mass Index was something they took seriously, for a fat soldier would do them no good in battle. I had learned in the past that no expense had been spared for the military's training facility, and they even had a sauna and physical therapists on standby. A favorite pasttime of any skilled soldier was friendly hand-to-hand combat in the open floor space, and that was where I spied the Golden God himself.

Mustang was right, even from hundreds of feet away and above all the noise of running tredmills and clanking free weights I could see and hear the smart-mouthed, confident Fullmetal Alchemist. We stood for several minutes watching his showy, albeit impressive, display. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only his dark grey sweatpants that rode low on his hips, the fabric gathering in pooled softness on the floor under his heels. A sheen of sweat glistened across his perfectly sculted body and his long golden hair fell loose from its ponytail as he ducked, jumped, swung around kicks and threw punches, fully engrossed in combat with a fellow soldier. He easily sent his opponent limping away with his tail between his legs, when two more young men lept at him. Watching Edward fight was truly a thing of beauty. He moved with a graceful fluidity that would almost have you believe you were witnessing a choreographed dance. It seemed to be an effortless task, the way he knocked aside each soldier that dared to face him. He took a kick here, a punch there, but would flip backward and away to gather himself before charging full speed into a flurry of jabs, upper cuts, roundhouse kicks, whatever his opponants could throw in the effort to bring him down. Their efforts proved to be futile.

"This is what he always does." Mustang ground out, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. "Every year when he upgrades to the lighter-weight winter automail he feels the need to test it out on his fellow soldiers. A lot of these kids just graduated from basic training and have no idea what he's capable of." We walked to the stairway and decended from the cat walk, making our way over to the small crowd of soldiers who had gathered as pleasantly enamored spectators for the friendly fighting. Mustang continued.

"They've never seen automail before, and most of them don't even realize that they're going up against the Fullmetal Alchemist. He gets all bent out of shape from the procedure, starts yelling at my officers, then comes down here to 'train the new recruits in hand-to-hand', causes thousands of dollars in medical costs and then leaves like its no big deal. But not today." We pushed our way through the crowd, and I could hear the shocked and stuttering whispers of men and women just then noticing the General's presense. They gasped, saluted, and when they saw who Roy's attention was fully focused on they shrank away from the scene. They knew what was coming.

"FULLMETAL!" Roy Mustang's powerful and authoritative voice bellowed across the gym, soaring above the surrounding noise and effectively silencing everyone around us. The group of younger men who had gathered in hopes to have a shot at Edward stared in shock and then began whispering frantically amongst eachother, having realized that the famed soldier was somewhere in the room. Their faces where completely dumbstruck when they realized it was the man they'd been attempting to fight. Ed's chest heaved from his 'workout' and when he saw Mustang striding over with the intent to kill his face broke out in that million-dollar, shit-eating grin of his. I realized I had been missing that grin for days.

"Mustang! My favorite commanding officer! How's life?"

"I'm in hell, Elric, and like usual I've got you to blame. How many times do I have to tell you? If you're going to spar, do it with an officer. Or at least someone who's fought you before. Or here's a brilliant idea, why not do it with another State Alchemist and level the playing field a little bit?! It's pathetic how you're tossing around my newest soldiers when they've only just gotten here from basic training!"

I went completely unnoticed by Ed, who was busy being lectured by the General all with a cheerful demeanor on his face. It was hard to believe that this was the same guy who only hours ago was screaming and cursing at people who were merely trying to do their jobs. He had mentioned that automail maitenance was painful and put him in a sour state, and I had seen Edward's grouchy side at home, but seeing the way his michievious eyes glimmered with mirth at the aggitated General only led me to believe that while he may have been a punk and a trouble-maker, he couldn't be a bad person. The crowds around us had only begun to increase in volume due to Mustang's shouting, and the spectating men seemed to hang on every word of the exchange. They were clearly in shock and awe of seeing two high-ranking officials at odds while the female soldiers in the room were fixated for very different reasons.

Being a woman myself, it was a facial expression I clearly recognized. They were practically drooling over the two boisterous men and it wasn't difficult to see why. Edward was a pillar of walking sex everywhere he went. Anytime I had been out in public with the guy he would go on with life seemingly unaware of women walking into lamp posts and stop signs because they were so busy gawking at him. As far as male attractiveness went, Roy Mustang didn't trail far behind his subordinate. Roy's black eyes smoldered under his dark brows and messy mass of thick black hair. He was a notorious ladies man with a silver tongue who knew exactly how to get what he wanted, whether it be a phone number from a pretty stranger, a peace-treaty with a neighboring country, or the extremely elusive and highly-coveted double chocolate chip muffin from the non-fat muffin basket at HQ.

"Alright, I'll try to be nicer to the engineers and the cooks in the mess hall. You know how painful re-attachment is for me and it puts me in a shitty mood. It would be better if I didn't have to be around so many people when I'm modified or upgraded." Edward explained. "And as for your new recruits, they should know better than to go up against any State Alchemist, not just me. It's not my fault if they don't know who I am. And besides, I'm just having fun with them. It's not serious."

"Just having fun?" Roy balked incredulously. "We just watched you break three of their noses! The military has to pay for their medical expenses Ed, you know this better than most!" Edward cast his eyes downward at this and Mustang turned to me, fire burning behind his gaze.

"Pay attention Winry, these are American tax dollars at work. Edward, I don't care how lightweight your new arm and leg feel. I don't give a damn if you're grouchy after your procedure. I don't give a flying fuck if you wanna get punched in the face by your fellow officers for fun. But when you show up here every winter and cause the uproar that you always do I can't just sit aside and let you continue. If you scream at another cook, I'll have you scrubbing pans in the kitchen. If you yell at your engineers, I'll order them to remove your arm for a week. And if you break a single bone belonging to any unexperienced fighter under my authority again, so help me God Edward I'll fucking set you on fire."

A wave of gasps and murmers moved throughout the on-lookers, and that's when Hawkeye intervened with a soft touch to Mustang's arm.

"Sir." Mustang collected himself and snapped his focus to the crowd with fiery glare.

"What the hell are you all looking at?!" Dozens of soldiers snapped to salute, and he barked at them. "As you were!"

They scattered like roaches to the light.

A/N: Thank you all for reading and for your wonderful reviews. Rest assured, there's more on its way.


	6. Chapter 6

It has been said,  
"time heals all wounds."  
I do not agree.  
The wounds remain.  
In time, the mind,  
(protecting its sanity),  
covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens.  
But, it is never gone.

-Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy

* * *

"I've never seen Roy get so angry before. I never knew he had it in him." I said to Ed in wonder as we stood in the uptown 1 train. Central Head Quarters was located in Manhattan's financial district, not far from the World Trade Center site, and was a short walk to the red line which ran from lower Manhattan up the West side of Central Park and onward towards the Bronx. Christoper street was only a few stops from Central, and anyone living in New York knows the subway is the most affordable -and sometimes quickest- way around the city.

Seeing Mustang so pissed off was quite the spectacle, and to be honest it served as an even better distraction. The sight of a grinning Edward Elric -shirtless, heaving, with sweat sheening over the dips and lines of every sculpted muscle- was a fearsome thing to behold on its own. His abdomen and pectorals contoured naturally from rigourous excercize, something he no doubt kept up not only for fun and stress relief, but for peak performance in whatever it was he did for a living. All the one-armed push-ups he did at home showed their worth, for his organic arm boasted the same impressive sinew and muscle, and several minutes had passed before I realized that his front was peppered with scars quite similar to the ones adorning his back. I had been relieved when Ed finally left to shower and returned fully clothed.

"Oh he's got it in him." Ed started. "He let's it boil and fester under the surface for awhile and then one day, boom."

He let out a yawn. "He's trained as an arsenist for the military. Back in his State Alchemist days they used to drop him behind enemy lines so he could burn down terrorist hide outs and then slip through their fingers like smoke. I'm not bothered by his threats, I'm used to them. He's been yelling at me for doing dumb shit since I was a kid."

This was surprising.

"You've known the General since you were a kid?" Edward's eyes widened a fraction and he blinked in stupor, looking like he'd just allowed exhaustion to let the cat out of the bag. He quickly collected himself and continued cooly,

"Yea he's a family friend. Met him when I was 13."

"Where is your family?" I pressed. I was fascinated with the lives of other people. Not in the voyeristic way that reality television had turned society into, but real human interest. My life had largely been boring, lonely, and sad. I didn't have friends anymore and my family had been lost when I was only a child. My Grandmother lived out in Queens and was a busy old chicken with her own mechanics business. Now that I had someone in my life, someone to actually exist around, I craved to know what his world was like outside of the one he'd been forced into. The one with me. These open moments with the military man were few and far between, and I planned on seizing each one of them as they came my way.

"Where are you from? Do you have any siblings?" His expression immediatly darkened and his eyes turned cold and hard. The train pulled into Christoper Street station and we exited the car and walked up the stairs to the street in silence. It wasn't until a few minutes later, while we made our way down my quiet street towards the apartment, that he finally responded.

"I'm sorry Winry, I really can't tell you that." His focused remained straight ahead, but I could see from his profile alone that this was an uncomfortable subject. His eyes were always intese and alert, wether he be pleasent or irritable or angry. Even when he slept his face seemed to always be perfectly aware of his surroundings at all times, and I could read that piercing intensity even as it was covered by closed eyes. But his eyes were different now. His sharpness had morphed into something dreadful, and melancholy washed over his features. My nosiness had conjured something unsettling, and seeing the sadness etched in him squeezed my heart in the worst of ways. The rest of the walk home was silent, and as we entered my apartment my land line started ringing.

"Let the machine get it." Ed softly commanded. We both knew that if it were anyone from the military they would reach one of us on our cell phones. They would only use the land line if they couldn't get us but neither of us had received a call or text and we had both just been in Central.

"It's probably my Grandmother," I stated non-chalantly. "She never calls my cell, only the house number. She's been asking me to come to dinner, and she wants to show me the god-awful home renovation she finished last week." I picked up the phone with the usual greeting and was met with silence. Then suddenly, labored breathing. Someone on the phone was crying.

"How can you do this to me? How can you torture me like this?" It was the voice of a man, but not the deep and raspy voice from my previous voicemail. This sounded younger, clearer even as it cracked from raw emotion. I shot Elric a worried expression and he quickly crossed the room and hit the speaker button so he could hear.

"Who is this?" I questioned, setting the phone back in its rest. Ed mouthed to me with exaggerated gestures to keep him talking as he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his sound recorder app.

The miserable, blubbering voice on the phone sniffed pathetically and he wailed, "I'm the one that LOVES YOU! And yet you won't be with me. Can't you see how much I need you Winry? Can't you hear me DYING without you?!" My focus flickered over to Edward and he was stone-faced, staring ahead with his dark blonde eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I could see the muscles move in his strong jaw in aggrivation, and his wide mouth was set in a grim line.

"Have we met before? Have I seen you somewhere?" The man on the phone chuckled bitterly at this, and I heard him draw in a shaky breath.

"We've never met, and you've never seen me. But I know your beautiful face Winry Rockbell. Your PERFECT face, your PERFECT body. We could be so great together, and I would make all your wishes come true. You could have a normal life with me. You wouldn't be lonely anymore. No more testing, no more blood transfusions. You wouldn't have to be afraid of people. It can all be over so quickly if you just come to me. I'll make it all better in the Promised land."

My heart rate sped up and sweat broke out on my brow dispite the frosty November air outside. I wasn't sure if it was my anxiety or the cranked heat but suddenly I was woozy and sweltering.

"Promised land?" I questioned nervously.

"Oh yes my love, the Promised land will be beautiful. But can't bring you there if you continue to betray me like this!" He screamed in agony, choking on his sobs.

I felt Edward's cold metal hand gently push my hair from my shoulder and rest on the back of my neck, a welcome relief that managed to keep my wits about me.

"What do you mean? How have I betrayed you?"

"Do you think I'm BLIND? Or just fucking STUPID? I've seen his silver pocketwatch lying around. You and I can't be together until you stop living with that FUCKING State Alchemist!"

Our gazes snapped towards eachother. He had been watching us.

"Don't worry Winry," The man continued, his weak voice cracking. "I know you'll come around soon. I know you'll make the right decision and get rid of him, so that we can be together. I love you so much Winry." The line went dead. We stood there for a moment, taking it all in as the steady dial-tone hummed throughout the apartment. Ed reached over and pushed the button to hang up before sighing and turning to me.

"I really wish that was just an ex-boyfriend of yours so I could find him easily and break his legs." I couldn't pull my gaze from the floor. My mind was too busy launching into the worst-case scenarios and panic rose in my chest. When I finally blinked back into awareness Edward was close to me with his flesh arm holding mine, shaking me gently.

"Rocky? Are you with me?" He asked somewhat nervously. Those intense golden orbs of his danced across my face sizing up wether or not I was about to pass out. I gulped and nodded, replying that I was alright, and needed a shower to calm my nerves.

"Use mine." He said softly, texting furiously on his phone. He was no doubt sending the recording to Maes Hughes in Investigations and also to Mustang. I almost argued, but figured there was no point and frankly I didn't have the strengh.

* * *

It was early evening when I emerged from my 30 minute shower pink and puffy and finally relaxed. Showering always had a way of making me feel human again. I could feel the tenseness in my back release as the scalding water rained over me. It had a way of clearing the mind like nothing else. I was wrapping my wet, naked form in a black towel when Ed sauntered into the bathroom.

"Oh good, you haven't drowned yourself." He said casually. I couldn't help rolling my eyes.

"You know, everything doesn't have to be a big joke." I snapped, my previous tranquility ruined by his intrusion. With all the goings-on, the scary phone calls, and now him sauntering in on me practically naked and cracking wise about wether I'd chosen to opt out, my privacy was feeling pretty invaded. A predicament I hadn't experienced since hoards of strangers circled my childhood home banging on my bedrood windows and moaning like zombies about how much they needed my Perfect Blood. His hands went up in front of him defensively.

"Whoa Rockbell, chill out. I'm just trying to lighten the mood a bit. You need to relax." This made my blood boil and I stepped to him to look up at his smug face.

"Stop telling me what to do all the time! I'm so tired of everyone in my life ordering me around. My grandmother keeps telling me to drive out to Queens and see how she gutted my childhood bedroom without bothering to ask me first, Roy Mustang has been bossing me around for years telling me where to go and how to dress to not get attention and what procedures the doctors will need me for, and now I've got you here. Telling me what to eat, forcing me to go out when I'm not comfortable, telling me to stop having panic attacks and passing out when someone breaks into my house to hang a fake dead body in my living room."

He stood hands on hips with a cocked eyebrow full of attitude as he took in my tirade.

"You tried to make me not answer the phone earlier, and then you ordered me to shower in your bathroom when I could easily shower in mine. What the fuck for?! I know Mustang put you in charge but do you have to control EVERYTHING?! For God's sake you just waltzed in here without knocking and I'm nearly naked!" Our chests nearly touched and I could feel the red anger boiling in my cheeks as I bore my blue eyes into him.

"First of all," He started calmly, "I've already seen you naked. Remember when I heard you fall in the shower? And Secondly, I need you to not have a heart attack everytime something happens because my job is to keep you safe and I can't protect you from this guy if I'm spending all my time reviving you. I bought food for the house because my body isn't like normal bodies and it doesn't function well when I consistantly eat garbage. I usually eat for fuel, not for fun. My limbs are machines which run on protein, complex carbs, good fats and anti-oxidants. Greasy food and bullshit makes me sluggish, and my limbs get stiff. I can't eat the crap you had in the kitchen."

"I can't help you with your Grandmother either," he continued. "But I may be able to do something about Roy if you would only let me in a little bit. I don't know what the rules are with you. I have no idea what you're dealing with on a personal level, Winry. I don't know what makes you so important to the military. I'm ordering you around because I need to protect you from this lunatic and I don't know enough about you to create compromise. All I know is that you hate leaving your apartment, you don't have any friends outside the military, and you never mention family besides your Grandmother. You're not living your life, Rockbell."

"I AM living my life! Sure it's not perfect, and it gets lonely, but I'm doing something important. I'm making a difference." I fought back.

"And what difference is that exactly? What difference are you making by caging yourself in this apartment? You don't work, you won't leave unless forced, you sit here all day doing yoga and reading books and taking kitchen appliances apart so you can see how they work. And then you turn around and complain about Mustang telling you to lay low." His irritated expression softened along with his voice. "You crave experience, I can tell. If you want to live a real life, do it. Stop being so afraid."

I huffed and shot back at him, "I am NOT afraid."

"Really? When was the last time you took a chance? Tell me about the last time you did something risky." He had stepped closer to me, his voice dropping to a deep and raspy murmur. The golden gaze I had been glaring daggers at fell down the front of me, taking in my state of undress.

"Is that my towel?"

I shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the towel more snuggly across my bust so it wouldn't fall.

"I...I forgot mine and it was the only one in here. Sorry." His molten gaze flickered back to mine.

"I'm not complaining." His roaming eyes settled on every inch of me and warmth crept into my cheeks, but we were interrupted by the gentle hum of his cell phone vibrating in his pocket.

"Elric here." He answered as I slinked past him to head to my room. As I shut my bedroom door behind me, I found myself replaying our argument in my head. Why exactly was I so irrationally angry? Yes I was tired and fed up, and torn between living this lonely life that could save the world or experiencing a real life that would put me in a spotlight I didn't want. I hadn't had friends or a semi-average life since High School. I tried to keep my condition a secret, but school nurses with big mouths let the cat out of the bag and it wasn't long before the entire school knew. What started as awe, wonder and admiration quickly soured into jealousy, prejudice and misunderstanding. Friends of mine stopped talking to me because someone had told them that Perfect Blood meant believing oneself to be perfect. They assumed I thought myself too good for them. Girls in the halls and locker room would shoot me dirty looks as I passed by, because I was naturally thin and toned, because I had clear skin, because my thick and shiny hair grew quickly, because my curves developed early. They hated me because having Perfect Blood meant I never got sick, and I never got allergies, I never even got acne and I had 20/20 vision.

The doctors had told me and my grandmother that I would grow up to be a vitually perfect specimen, but I never understood what that meant until high school. Rumors flew around and my reputation suffered even more. Girls gossiped about me out of jealousy because of my looks, and they hated me for the way their boyfriends's eyes would follow me as I walked by. Guys would whistle at me in the halls and mutter lewd comments under their breath. Junior year when I decided to focus all my attention and frustrations on sports, my peers's distain for me only grew. My exceptional hand-eye coordination served me well during tryouts for softball and basketball, and when I went out for cross-country I outran even their fastest member. The coaches were delighted, and I thought I had finally found somewhere to belong. But envious students told of what they had learned about me, and it was decided that I wouldn't be allowed to play sports because my Perfect Blood gave me an unfair advantage. Even the booksmart kids wouldn't talk to me. They studied their asses off to maintain good grades, but A's and B's came easily to me because I was smart and liked to learn. Life after school was still difficult, any romantic relationships I entered would start out normal enough. But after getting close and comfortable, every boyfriend I had told about myself was at first fascinated and then eventually irritated because I cured diseases but never wanted to leave the house. They would see the experiments I went through and decide they couldn't handle a 'perfect' girlfriend and leave. The military would have to pay them to quiet about me, so I eventually stopped pursuing any relationships. I got tired of guys getting excited about the thought of 'sex with a perfect woman' only to leave when they realized just how imperfect I actually am, and every failed attempt at love was humiliating.

I shook away the painful memories and went to my walk-in closet to change when Ed's voice sounded from the other side of my door.

"You're not gonna believe what that bastard Mustang is making us do."


	7. Chapter 7

Madness, as you know, is a lot like gravity.  
All it takes is a little push.

-The Dark Knight

* * *

The McKittrick Hotel on the lower west side was a true hidden gem of Manhattan. It wasn't truly an Inn, but a dark and lavish setting for a live, dream-like re-telling of Shakespeare's Macbeth that made both tourists and locals question whether they were cognisant or hallucinating. The shadowy halls wound like a labryinth all over, from the lobby to the great room, upstairs and downstairs, in and out of secret passage ways and through dimly lit lounges. This playground holding the show known as 'Sleep No More' was presented as a decadant building of luxury condemmed and locked in the late 1930s at the start of the the second World War, and then re-opened to the public in present day.

The parties were Gatsby-esque in their excess, where only top-shelf liquor poured at all of the 10 bars throughout the hotel and prepared Absinthe was kept in massive crystal decanters for the guests to help themselves. The attention to detail rivaled that of Disney Imagineers, with long hand-carved mahogany bars and dimly-lit lounges boasting red velvet-tufted walls and enormous chandeliers dripping crystals. There were narrow passage ways leading from one smoky lounge to another, and a massive great room featuring panels of red and purple chiffon draped from the ceiling, obscuring any on-lookers who might be creeping along the cat-walks and balconies suspended above. Roaming the building from the front desk all the way up to the rooftop deck transported you to a world merging the 1920's speak-easy social scene with the haunting suspense of Stephen King's The Shining.

This dark and twisted living fairytale world served as host for this year's gathering of the New York Charitable Society's annual fundraiser, an prestigeous event that the Military attended and donated to each year. This year was special though, for the charity in which the fundraiser was being held was the Wounded Warrior Project. The Wounded Warrior Project was a non-profit started not long after 9/11 for the purpose of raising awareness and enlisting the public's help for severly injured military members. It continues on to also help injured service members aid one-another, and provides unique and direct services and programs to wounded service members. Since this year's benefitting non-profit hit so close to home, Mustang saw to it that every available Active Duty member be in attendance. He also informed Edward that there would be certain soldiers present that may not be trust-worthy, and could possibly give us information about my stalker.

Elric moaned and groaned of course, complaining that he hated being forced to clean up. But for someone who claimed to do it so infrequently, he sure cleaned up well. He wore an expensive and expertly-tailored suit of black on black, and opted to leave the tie behind at Central, favoring a open collar instead. His long golden hair was pulled neatly into his usual ponytail, and for once seemed free of knots. His strong jaw was clean shaven and when we walked in the McKittrick's great room many of the hundreds of heads followed him. The women's out of lust, the men's out of envy.

As we mingled with faces both familiar and the contrary, I began to notice many of the lingering looks Ed had gotten earlier had now been bestowed upon myself. It made me a little self-consious, and I wasn't sure if I was getting stared at out of admiration or shocked offense. Having been roped into this last second, I put on the only dress I owned that was fancy. An impulse purchase that sat in the back of my closet with the tags still on for years, until today. It was strapless white chiffon and it fit me through the bust and torso like a glove. The layers of chiffon floated around my hips like softly billoughing clouds as I walked, and I was nervous about the dress because not only was it strapless and fitted with a low-cut back, but it was dangerously short. Edward wasted no time in asking why I was wearing a dress smaller than it's 'how to wash' tag. I had no other options and very little time, so I threw on what little makeup I owned and ran a boar-bristle brush through my long buttery hair to fluff it and add some shine. As we ran out the door and headed to Central so Ed could change I slipped into 4-inch peep-toe heels and put on the only precious jewelery I owned. My Mother's and Father's wedding rings, strung on a simple silver chain to lay on my chest where they would be close to my heart.

I was relieved when I was taken by the arm by Rebecca, a pretty soldier with long brown hair and large, happy eyes who had been a friend for years.

"There you are!" She exclaimed as she pulled me away from my escort for what I could only suspect would be girl-talk. She stuck her tongue out at Edward and winked playfully, and he grinned in response as he ordered a Glennlevit 15 and struck up conversation with 2nd lieutenant Hymans Breda. I was ushered across the great room and down a dark hallway that lead to one of the many lounges, and was met with the smiling faces of Riza and our friend Sheska. The four of us sat across from eachother on tufted loveseats of emerald velvet and a tray of Hendrick's martinis was set on the table between us.

"Okay Winry, spill." Rebecca said as I sipped my gin martini nervously. The dripping tapers on the table only enhanced the sparkling mirth in the eyes of my three companions. "What's it like to live with one of the hottest guys on the planet?"

"Umm it's okay I guess." This clearly wasn't a satisfactory response.

"Does he snore?" Rebecca asked.

"Does he leave the seat up?" Riza inquired with a nibble on her olive. Sheska's brown eyes narrowed to slits and she waggled her eyebrows above her large square-framed glasses.

"Have you seen him naked? How's his butt?"

I nearly shot gin out of my nose. The girls howled in laughter.

"Oh come on Winry, you've gotta give us something here." Sheska added. "The only people who've ever lived with Fullmetal are the soldiers who go on missions with him, and they won't tell us a thing. Bro code, you know? What happens on tour of duty, stays on tour of duty." Sheska was a mousy girl of 30 with short brown hair and a photographic memory unlike anything the military had ever encountered. She was naturally smart and addicted to the written word, and could retain countless amounts of information buy simply reading it once or twice. She was a powerful asset to the records department. Her closest friend was Rebecca, a weapons expert like 2nd lieutenant Jean Havoc. Rebecca was classically pretty with long brown hair that fell in waves, and her playful nature and fearless attitude made her quite the flirt. Her two favorite things in the world were bazookas, and gossip.

I composed myself and began twisting a lock of my long blonde hair around my finger in nervous contemplation.

"Well...there's not much to tell really. He always wakes up before I do, he's usually on his phone, and he works out in the guest bedroom alot. I haven't heard any snoring and we have seperate bathrooms so I don't know if he leaves the seat up. And I wouldn't know how his butt is because I haven't seen it." This of course, was a lie.

Riza eyed me speculativly, before cooly replying. "You're full of shit. You've definitely seen him naked. Your face looks like a tomato."

"It was an accident." I quickly caved, seeing that it would be useless to try and pull the wool over the eyes of a hawk. The three of them squealed in delight. "He was showering and left the door open a little, and I was walking past and just happened to look up. It didn't end well."

"But I bet it was spectacular view right?" Rebecca added animatedly, and she and the other two giggled and launched into chatter about some other topic, leaving me to ponder Rebecca's assumption. Edward Elric could be considered comparable to summitting a mountain. Since seeing him that night I had been opened up to many new sides of Ed that I wasn't expecting. While I was happy to have a few answers, I couldn't help but notice that every question answered only led to new questions about other unusal things. When Ed moved in, I had wanted us to become friendly. I wanted us to get to know eachother. And I was itching to uncover more of his secrets. But with every mile-marker I hit on the way up Mt. Elric, I found baggage. And the baggage became heavier with each step. I couldn't help but wonder. When I reach the summit, will the view really be spectacular? Or will the weight of the baggage make the destination not worth the difficult journey?

We continued to chat for awhile longer, when I realized I was starving and excused myself to go find catering or at least a waiter walking around with a tray of bacon-wrapped scallops. I made my way down the narrow and shadowy hallway towards the great room when I found my path suddenly cut off by a tall man wearing a white, three-peice suit with inky straight hair slicked back in a low ponytail. His black eyes shone mischieviously, but in a way that made my stomach turn, and his smirk didn't hold the boyish charm of Edward's. His expression was undoubtably sinister in nature.

"He's dangerous you know. You should be afraid of him." He stepped closer to me and squeezed my arm. Liquor seared over his breath, and his sharp eyes melted in his innebreation. "I mean sure, I knew they wouldn't send me to look after you because I'm not the most popular choice either, but him? He's a ticking time bomb."

Solf J. Kimblee was a seasoned soldier same as Ed and Mustang, but his dominant nature and controversial actions made him a square peg in the round hole that was the State Alchemist program. Over the years I hadn't failed to pick up on the whispers of others whenever he was around. He preferred working alone, an unusual trait for a soldier seeing how the military intensely promotes teamwork. I had encountered him many times, and his stare always seemed to linger far too long and in areas it shouldn't travel to anyway. Master Sergeant Kain Furey was always very nervous around him, and Jean Havoc was never one to sugar-coat his distain for the Crimson Alchemist. Havoc had told me repeatedly over the years that Kimblee was a deceptive snake who was rumored to have had involvement in truly horrific actions from back when I was still a child. The only reason he hadn't been dis-honorably discharged years ago was because of lack of evidence against him. The higher-ups also wanted him around in times of war, for he had proven to be ruthless in battle; unafraid to do whatever necessary in assuring the success of his mission. This only added to his controversial status; I heard he had slaughtered a bystanding child who crossed his path in the middle east and -according to him- posed a threat.

"Hello Mr. Kimblee. Good turn-out this evening, I heard even Donald Trump is here. Wounded Warrior should raise a lot of money don't you think?" My efforts to steer the subject into neutral territory proved to be futile, for it seemed he never even heard me.

"You have no idea what he is, do you?" He suddenly shoved me against the wall and we were bathed in shadows where no one would see. My fearful heart hammered in my chest and his putrid, liquor-soaked breath fell across my ear. "You don't know that he's a freak. Sure, people say that I'm bad, that I can't be trusted. But I'm not like him. Even Roy Mustang, his biggest fan, doesn't trust him. Not completely."

I figeted under him, desperatly wanting to run but being held by brute force. I felt his fingers dancing along the hem of my dress, skimming my thigh as his grip maintained on my arm. He pulled back slightly to see my face but I couldn't look at him. I turned my face from his and squeezed my eyes shut, but the self-deprivation of vision only forced me to hear his words more profoundly.

"Hell, Mustang fought tooth and nail to see that he wasn't the one to be your gaurd." My eyes shot open at this and I turned to him as he continued.

"The only reason he's with you and not out fighting the enemy is because of orders that came from over Mustang's head. Mustang keeps him traveling for a reason. He's perfect in the field but when he sits home for too long his mental screws get loose. I know Havoc told you to stay away from me, but what has anyone told you about the Fullmetal Alchemist? Have you heard about his limbs? How about the fact that he's been a State Alchemist since he was fourteen? I bet you don't even know what a State Alchemist actually does."

I couldn't take anymore. I could feel the panic rising in me as I shook my head and begged, "Please stop. Please leave me alone."

"We kill people Winry. We're trained government assasins. He gets paid a handsome price to slaughter people. Has he told you that? Judging by the way you look at him I'd say not. You look at him like he's so fucking perfect but you wouldn't think that if you knew what he's capable of. If you only knew what he did when he was just a kid. He's the living example of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He seems fine on the surface. But deep down, he's a monster."

I slapped him across the face and broke free of his grasp, running back down the dark hall in the direction I came from. His sinister chuckling echoed behind me and I ducked into the womens bathroom to collect myself.

* * *

I emerged ten minutes later, exhausted from the onslaught both physical and mental. Kimblee's warning echoed in my mind over and over, and my rational brain knew that all rumors were rooted in some truth. Kimblee was right, I shouldn't be so trusting of Edward because really I barely knew him. It all made sense now. The bags of guns in his room, the expensive sheets and clothes, the black Aston Martin he drove us here in, the reason he could fight the way he did, the reason he slept with a gun under his pillow. He was a government assasin. Every fiber of my logical brain screamed that this had just gone from bad to worse, and that I needed to find a way to get Edward Elric out of my life.

But my heart. My ridiculous, non-sensical heart. It fluttered like the rapid beating wings of the butterflies in my stomach whenever I saw him. Any attempt my brain would make to convince me to sleep in every morning was rebuffed by my heart, blooming with joy at the sound of his steady voice on the phone as it carried from the kitchen. This most vulnerable of organs was reduced to a squeezed pulp of bled emotion during any adorable commercial or thoughtful card from my Grandmother, and yet one flash of his dazzling grin was the charge that shocked my heart back into rapid living.

I took a deep breath to collect myself and went on my mission to find Edward so we could talk. Kimblee may have claimed him to be dangerous, but the eyes of the man who took me gently by the wrist and told me I needn't fear were not the eyes of a monster. I made my way once again down the hall where I had encountered Kimblee and turned the corner leading out to the great room. It seemed that while I had been pre-occupied the number of people in attendance had tripled, and now included not only members of the military, but also members of the press, representatives of affiliated charities and causes, celebrities, politicians, even the Mayor of the city of New York. I weaved between people, searching for that flash of golden light against the dark and decadant setting of the evening. A hand slipped around my elbow and I whirled around to find his glimmering eyes and devious smirk.

"I was about to send a search party." He joked calmly. I couldn't help but beam at the sight of him.

"Sorry," I exhaled with relief. "I got lost, this place is huge and dark. I think we can get out of here if you've got a flashlight and google maps."

His smirk became a thousand-watt smile, and he downed the remainder of his amber liquid and left the empty glass on the nearby bar.

"We might as well. My bid won at the silent auction which means I'm out 12 grand. I think I've had enough excitement for one night." I could sense that he had the same idea I did; sweatpants and the sofa. We made the goodbye rounds as quickly as we could without seeming like we were rushing, stopping for his handshakes and playful jabs with the guys and my hugs with the girls. We walked out onto the city street as snow began to delicately fall from a blackened sky and Elric stopped suddenly.

"Shit, I forgot." He stated. "I never closed my tab. Gimmie just a sec, wait inside it's cold out."

I smiled softly and said I'd be along in just a moment, and he dissappeared back inside. It was nearly 3 a.m., and the city was suspended in the rare, beautiful silence of a quiet winter night. The cold air was invigorating to breathe, and standing alone on the street was a welcome release from the swarms of people inside. My peaceful reverie was short-lived however, when I heard the boisterous laughter of two men walking towards the entrance as they tossed aside their cigarettes. We made brief eye contact as they walked by, and that's when one of them stopped.

"No way. Winry? Winry Rockbell? Holy shit it IS you!" The taller man said. I recognized his messy brown hair and cocky grin, always paired with his shorter friend's spiky red hair and distracting lip ring. I went to high school with these guys. I didn't remember their names because I didn't really have friends in high school, but I knew them as the ring leaders of the circus of absurd boys who would whistle at me and murmur vulgarities as I walked by. The crimson-haired man chuckled and added,

"Oh my god I can't believe we almost walked past you! I didn't think you could get any hotter but damn you proved me wrong. We just scored some more coke, wanna party?"

"Thanks for the offer but I'm good." I was praying that Ed would come back outside. Just then the tall one put his hand to his mouth in stunned realization.

"Oh snap I just remembered! Hey, was all that stuff we heard about you true?" Dread krept in my stomach, and I knew what was coming. There was a familiar shift in the air, and I felt the door open next to me. Edward was walking toward me when the smaller guy piped up.

"Yea! Like all that stuff about you having Perfect Blood or whatever?" I closed my eyes in frustration because my parriferial vision had witnessed Ed stop in his tracks at hearing this. I didn't have a chance to even ponder how to respond because they just wouldn't shut the hell up.

"So doesn't that mean you can't get diseases? Or like, STDs and shit? That's gotta be so awesome, you can fuck whoever you want without a condom and no worries!"

My mind screamed at them to stop. I would've given anything to avoid Edward from finding out my secret and these two inconsiderate fools were dragging me through the same hell I went through as a child. Their obnoxious laughter cut through the quiet night, and my blood boiled.

"Shut up." I whispered gravely. "You don't know what you're talking about."

They looked at me with mock surprise

"Oh come on Rockbell, everyone was talking about it." The scruffy brunette announced. "I don't get what you're so upset about. Every guy in school was obsessed with you and are you really that surprised? I mean look at you! No wonder the girls didn't like you."

I hugged my arms around myself and turned away from them, partially to sheild myself from the biting cold and also in a pathetic attempt to shut them out.

"Edward can we go?" He sent an icy glare at the two men and strode forward to walk me to his car, when one of the men spoke up.

"Ahh forget you. You were a prude then and you're still a fucking prude now!" Just when I thought my humiliation could never soar to higher reaches, we heard the other add loudly,

"She's not a prude man, Daniel Lawrin told me he stuffed her from behind in the locker room Senior year! He said you must've had Perfect Blood because you had the most perfect, tight pussy Winry!"

Edward screeched to a halt next to me, his eyes turned down to the sidewalks which were now dusted with fine white powder. He pulled off his suit blazer and I felt it slip over my shaking shoulders. After pulling the key fob from his pocket, he pointed it at his Aston Martin V12 Vantage, unlocked the car and pressed the fob into my hand.

"Lock yourself in and don't open it till I get back." He ordered. I could feel moisture brimming my eyes and my throat began to tighten as I looked into fierce eyes.

"Let's just go, please?" He exhaled forcefully like an angry bull and barked at me.

"Get in the car NOW!" I stumbled back in shock, and took off running towards the vehicle. When I slammed the passenger side door and locked it, I looked up to see him stalking back up the street towards the disgusting pair who were doubled over laughing at their callous words and not paying attention to their surroundings. That was when I first saw Ed truly change. His steps were reminisent of panthers in the wild, steady, fluid and unhurried; waiting for opportune moment to strike. His hands began to flex in preparation and he removed the glove from his right hand exposing the steel fingers that started cracking the knuckles in his left. His hardened gaze held on his target and he smiled wickedly. At that moment I turned away and squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't bring myself to watch. In his anger Edward Elric had become something else entirely. Kimblee's words of warning echoed within me.

_'He's a ticking time bomb...you should be afraid...he's a monster.'_

I believed I had witnessed the transformation of Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. My protector had become a predator.

I was frightened.


	8. Chapter 8

-She said "don't get too close.  
It's dark inside. It's where my demons hide.

-And I answered...  
"Get too close, there is a hell inside of me, it's where your demons can live.

-unknown

* * *

The drive home was silent and uncomfortable. Edward never glanced my way; his angry eyes were targeted on the road in front of us as we sped towards home. It had taken everything in me not to cry, but I could feel the moisture welling in my eyes and I knew Ed would not be oblivious to this. There was nothing he didn't notice. My eyes slid over to him and my heart raced at the sight of him. He was the physical embodiment of raw power and he sent this message in subtle ways, barely moving at all. It was in the unwavering feirceness of his gaze, in the way he clenched his jaw when he was angry or stressed, in the confident smirk he wore. His right hand moved to grip the top of the steering wheel, and the white and yellow bubbles of reflected street lights streaked up the windshield, gleaming off his metal fingers. My eyes fell to his hand and I saw the blood on his knuckles. It had dried into a cakey, dark paste smattered in the hinges connecting his fingers, and the passing street lights revealed the grusome message behind it. My stomach turned at the consideration of what he had done to those men.

We finally pulled into the parking garage on my street and after finding a spot he powered down the engine and just stared at the wheel for a moment, seemingly engrossed in contemplation. The quiet tension continued to thicken. After several moments I glanced at him nervously, humiliated from the encounter and anxious to know what he was thinking.

"Please say something?" I whispered. He remained silent; never looking my way and angled himself out of the vehicle. Before I knew it my side door was yanked open and he looked away from me as I stood up. We walked back to my apartment and he opened the door, ushering me inside and thats when I whirled around.

"What the hell is your problem? I'm sorry I didn't tell you before but I never thought you'd react like this. Why are you so mad?"

"I'm processing." He corrected, closing the door behind him and tumbling the dead bolt into place. "Perfect Blood is supposed to be a myth."

"The military worked very hard for a very long time to turn the reality of my condition into a myth. They've worked secretly with the media for years drip-feeding the idea of Perfect Blood to the public so that when the truth comes out someday, hopefully the reaction will be different from before. More controlled, less chaotic for me. This was all over the news when I was a little girl, don't you remember it? It was huge worldwide."

I had shrugged out of his blazer and he rolled his sleeves to his elbows, getting comfortable as he eyed me in speculation.

"When did this all happen again?"

I thought back for a moment. "Well I was seven when we discovered it, so twenty years ago. Wow, I can't believe its been that long." I could see the gears turning in his mind as he did the math.

"If you were 7 that would have made me 9 when this happened..." His voice trailed off and his eyeline fell to look past me. "No, I don't recall anything about this in the news."

Silence slipped over us before his eyes fixated on my once again.

"Your arm." He started as stepped closer to me. "Why is it bruised? Did those guys-"

"No. It wasn't them." I covered the yellowish brown spots forming on my skin with my hand, shying away from Edward's analyzing gaze. "I...I ran into Major Kimblee back at the fundraiser. He was drunk. It's not a big deal, I'm fine."

My attempt at waving it off was wasted on Elric, who's look of irritation was back full-force.

"He and I don't exactly get along. What did he say to you?" Kimblee's dreadful words replayed in my mind like a broken record. The warnings that I had easily shaken off earlier had reattached themselves to my psyche after witnessing Ed's reaction to the comments from the two druggies outside.

"Nothing," I lied, "Just a bunch of incoherant babbling. He was slurring his words."

"Don't lie to me, Rockbell. Kimblee was one of the soldiers Mustang sent me to question. Tell me what happened, what are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything!" I piped up a little too loudly in my attempt to remain nonchalant. "I'm tired, I'm gonna go to bed."

"You're not going anywhere. I've got questions and you're gonna answer them." Edward admonished with his hands on hips. Suddenly I felt like a teenager again, scolded for the secrets I'd been keeping, and I was also feeling irrationally angry. I knew just who to take it out on.

"There's nothing to tell, Edward! I'm exhausted, can I please go to bed?!"

His brow furrowed as he stood there, clearly not ready to fold.

"You're being ridiculous, Winry. I need to know what Kimblee said to you and I need you to tell me about your involvement with the military. It isn't safe for you to keep me in the dark. Stop acting like a child!"

I reeled back in shock, and my anger began to boil over.

"I am NOT acting like a child and I'm NOT afraid of telling you anything! Its 4 am, I just wanna sleep!

"Don't give me that." He responded, "You're afraid of everything! You say you're serving a purpose by locking yourself away and only coming out when Mustang's people need to experiment, but I can tell you want more and you're just too scared to go after it. I'm responsible for your safety yet you're too afraid to tell me why you're so important to the government. I'm on your side Winry, you can trust me. You don't need to be afraid of me!"

"Shouldn't I be?!" I blurted out. I hated the way he had just read me like an open book. "People would attack me in the streets! They thought I could save them, but I can't. Not yet anyway. I became a social obsession who couldn't leave home because of what others would do and say when they recognized me. You saw what happened tonight! Why subject myself to the torture when we haven't cured anything yet?!"

He folded his arms and went to say something but I cut him off. I knew he couldn't understand what I was talking about but I was too angry and upset to care, and I melted down.

"Don't you stand there and acuse me of acting like a child. You have no idea what growing up has been like for me; what sacrifices I've made to help the world. How dare you judge me! You wanna know what Kimblee said? He said that you're not supposed to be here. He said that someone over Roy's head ordered you here against Mustang's wishes and that you're mentally unstable."

The knuckles of my clenched fists paled from the pressure.

"What exactly did you do to those men tonight? Kimblee said that you've killed people, and you have the gaul to chastise ME for keeping secrets? So what if I am afraid. Maybe I should be since I've been forced to live with a controlling head case with anger issues!"

He glared at me hotly as I shot daggers back at him, huffing and puffing from my furious tirade; my breathing ceased for a moment when he stepped to me and leaned in close.

"I don't need to show up to every argument I'm invited to, and I certainly don't need to waste my time having a 'whos-life-is-worse' contest with you; but if it'll shut you the hell up then I'm happy to oblige. I'm painfully aware that I shouldn't be here. It's all I think about. I'm also aware of what it means to have a difficult past. You know you aren't the only person here with an abnormality."

My gaze fell to his folded arms and the incandesent light that reflected off metal. Cold reality splashed over me when I recalled the terrible things I'd just said to the man who was only trying to help.

"It's true, I've killed a lot of people for the government. Believe me when I tell you they deserved it. But you're not the first person that I've been sent to save. I didn't seriously injure those guys; they'll need some stitches but they'll be fine. You've got some nerve painting me to be the bad guy simply because I don't deal with your bullshit."

His steely resolve was slipping and my heart pounded away anxiously.

"I'm controlling because its my job to be in control. I need information from you because Mustang's hands are tied and it's my job to be fucking informed. And I'm angry for reasons aside from your behavior. I'm angry for reasons you wouldn't understand!" He bellowed.

He took a deep breath to collect himself before softening his gaze on me.

"I don't mean to be such a miserable fuck, but if it'll help me keep you alive then that's how it has to be. You need to grow up and start being open with me because its harder for me to keep you safe if I don't know why this guy is after you."

He turned to head to his room and that's when my brain pushed me into action. I reached out and grabbed his metal hand and he stopped, looking back at me.

"Wait," I stammered out, "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I- I shouldn't have-"

"Relax." He said, turning to me. I felt him tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and I raised my eyes to his.

"I meant it when I said that you don't need to be afraid of me. I'm here to keep you safe. I would never hurt you, Winry."

I knew that he wasn't just talking about my physical state.

* * *

Our argument had sparked newfound energy in me, and at nearly 6 am we were sitting in my darkened living room with a bottle of scotch and the gas fireplace serving as our light source. We sat there passing the bottle back and forth as I told him everything about my condition and the challenges it had brought me in the past, as well as the hopes that it held for the future. He'd speculated that whoever was stalking me must have ties with higher-ups in the military because of all the goings-on over Mustang's head. Cancer is a roughly 6 billion dollar industry and I if went curing the disease a lot of wealthy CEOs would suddenly be out of work. It must've been a conspiracy to stop my involvment with the military, started by someone who stood to make a fortune off the sick. He reasoned that Mustang must've wanted someone else living with me not because he didn't trust Elric, but because he would've had him watching from the outside, making sure that no one even came close to the apartment, and using his sharp mind to weed out the traitors at Central. But Roy's hands were tied by people outranking him who were either too far from the situation to truly understand what was going on, or were the very conspirators hoping to see me dissappear.

"We should turn in," He reasoned, taking a swig from the bottle before corking it. The sky outside had lifted from its blackness to an ombre of dark blue, and we knew the sun was on its way. He grinned at me. "You can barely keep your eyes open." He was right. I was beyond exhausted and would have fallen asleep on the livingroom rug had he let me. He stood and before I could protest he scooped me into his arms and carried me to my room. Sliding into bed was heavenly and my half-opened eyes found his as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry for calling you a headcase with anger issues." I murmured. He smirked at this and I felt his cold, steel fingers brush my messy bangs from my eyes. Without thinking I touched my hand to his and pressed his metal palm flush with my cheek. "This feels wonderful."

I felt him still for a moment. "You don't have to pretend to make me feel better. I know my automail is intimidating."

"It doesn't bother me at all." I replied, "Who am I to judge someone for being different? Lots of soldiers have prosthetic limbs, losing part of your body doesn't make you any less human. You're still a person."

His eyes widened at hearing this and he pulled his hand away, cleanching his fist.

"Get some sleep." He quietly demanded and as he went to shut my door behind him he paused.

"Thank you, by the way." He murmured.

"For what?" He smiled sadly at me over his shoulder.

"...For not asking me how I got like this."

He shut the door.

* * *

I awoke several hours later to sunlight pouring in my room; it's brightness amplified by the sheet of crisp white covering everything outside. I slipped out of my dress and shimmied into some black leggings and a slouchy petal pink sweater after I showered. Walking out into the livingroom met me with the surprising sight of Edward passed out on the couch, still clad in his pants and dress shirt from the night before. I couldn't help giggling at how uncomfortable he looked, and I gently brushed an errant golden hair from across his face. Seeing him so relaxed and peaceful made it hard to believe what Kimblee claimed; that he was capable of so much destruction. My tranquil moment with the slumbering adonis was cut short when his hand suddenly lashed out, grasping my wrist tightly and snatching it away from his face as his fierce eyes bore into me. As quickly as he grabbed me he let me go and put his hand to his chest, breathing out slowly.

"Jesus woman, don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry." I exhaled. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He rolled himself off the couch and stretched, yawning loudly and scratching his disheveled-looking head as he headed to the guest shower. I brewed us some much needed coffee and ordered some chicken parm sandwiches for us, and made myself comfortable on the sofa just as Ed emerged from his room. He shook a towel over his loose wet hair and grinned as I handed him his coffee; black with a little sugar, just how he likes it.

"So," He started as he settled next to me on the sofa, "I think we need a fresh start. No more secrets, its open communication from now on."

I nodded in agreement before responding, "Well what about you? What will you share?"

His eyes fell away from mine in contemplation, it was plain to see he was weighing his options. "I'll share what I can, but it's not much. There are some things about me that I can't explain to you, even though I want to. I need you to understand that and not push."

I could feel myself brightening from within at this newfound opportunity, and I aquiested enthusiastically.

The next few hours became a blur of coffee, chicken parmesean sandwiches, and him answering any of my questions that he could. He told me about some of his past missions, people he protected, countries he visited. I was dazzled by his vivid descriptions; the humidity and bright technicolor foliage of the amazon rainforest, the incredible sea life he encountered while scuba diving near the Great Barrier reef, the head-scratching mysteries surrounding Easter Island and Stonehenge. I found myself dreaming in the daytime as he spoke of the sun setting over the rolling hills of Tuscany, the magical light show of the aurora borealis dancing through the midnight sky above the snow-capped mountains of Alaska, the way the Grand Canyon seemed to stretch on forever. It seemed to me that heaven existed on earth, and a sudden pang of regret struck me which he noticed.

"What is it?" He questioned.

I drew in a shakey breath to sooth my aching soul.

"I... I'm just so angry at myself. I don't have to stay here all the time. I really can go out and live. I'm just so afraid of being recognized. I can't ask my Grandmother to leave her business so anywhere I go I would be alone, and if someone were to approach me..." I trailed off when I realized I had been rambling. "I can't have another incident like the one at Union Square. I can't subject myself to the possibility that I could be swarmed by people. I want to meet new people, see new places, have adventures. But I can't until we're finished."

"Finished what? How will curing an illness and letting the world know it was really you all along make things any better for you? How will it be safer for you when you leave the house?" Elric asked with a quizzical brow.

"Everyone knew about me years ago when this first hit the news. People didn't understand my unusual gift. I was chased in the streets and cast out in school, and life was really hard. I went to Mustang when I was old enough and we decided that I would mostly go into hiding. The military paid off higher-ups in the media so they would claim that the whole story was false, thought up by a crazed journalist and that I never had Perfect Blood in the first place."

He listened to all of this with an uncommon openess in his steely gaze. "It's our hope that my dissapearance will largely make the world forget me, and then when we finally succeed in our mission, the military and my doctors will reveal what we've accomplished. We're hoping that when its clearly explained to the world exactly what my blood can and cannot do, that people won't have unrealistic expectations. I won't be chased by strangers, or bitten by sick people, or attacked by the angry and confused out of desperation."

I twisted the loose fabric of my sweater in my hands nervously.

"I make an effort to blend into the crowd by not drawing attention to myself." I added, "I wear fairly plain clothes, theres nothing special about my hair, I almost never wear makeup so my face isn't worth noticing. It usually works for me to leave the house looking unremarkable."

Edward's sharp eyes connected back to mine at hearing this.

"You think you're unremarkable?" He puzzled incredulously. "I've got news for you, Rocky. You're far from plain-looking, and there's not much you can do about it so you might as well grow a pair and get over it. The few times we've left this prison I've watched guy-after-guy break his neck as you walk by, baggy sweaters and all. People are gonna notice you no matter what you do, you're not invisible. You need to start conquering this fear, and I'll help you. Its wasted effort for you to try going unnoticed. It'll never work with a face like yours."

I stared at him, unsure of how to respond. I think he mistook my stunned silence for offense because he leaned to elaborate.

"Its impossible to not notice you Winry. I could spot those bright eyes from a mile away."

I blushed, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear shyly as he stood and pulled me up with him by my arm.

"Put your shoes on." He commanded with a smirk.

"Wait, right now?! We can't go out now, that guy is still on the loose. Plus theres snow on the ground and it's cold."

"Stop with the excuses, Rockbell. You're conquering your fear tonight. We're going to Union Square."

I dug my heels in. "No way! Are you insane?! Couldn't we go somewhere quieter? With security? How about the library?" He pushed me towards the closet where I kept my boots and jacket.

"You know what they say, 'the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step'." He said pulling on his leather jacket. "So step out of your apartment, and step onto the 1 train, then on to the L." I didn't hide my lack of amusement.

"I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to you and I meant it." He said pulling the door shut behind me. "I'll be with you every step of the way."

A/N: Thank you all for the kind words. Its wonderful to know that so many people are enjoying reading this story as much as i'm enjoying writing it. Rest assured to those who have asked, I will not be someone who leaves a story without a proper ending, and I plan to update every couple of days. I have most of this story finished so updating will be easy. Its simply a matter of crossing 'T's and dotting 'I's. Thanks again for the reviews, they are the most powerful motivation for me to write.


	9. Chapter 9

I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly,  
acutely miserable, racked with sorrow,  
but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.

-Agatha Christie

* * *

The Christmas Market at Union Square was a yearly tradition in the city charming both the locals and the tourists. Long and winding pathways were flanked on either side by booths erected in the center of the square and everywhere you looked was a sight to behold. Every year local merchants from all over the city and state would gather here just before Thanksgiving to offer up their finest creations whether they be hand-sewn clothes, vintage jewelery, old-fashioned and wooden toys, french perfumes, baked goods or hand-blown glass ornaments. I was nervous climbing the steps out of the subway and emerging in the midst of the bustling crowds, but Edward's light touch at the small of my back was enough to coax me forward.

It only took a few minutes for me to become dazzled by the sight of festive red and green lights strung from the booths and into the trees, the sounds of the laughing kids chasing eachother wildly with gooey sticky-bun fingers outstretched, and smells of hot chocolate and spiced apple pies floating in the air. Before I knew it, I was happily strolling along with Ed as we wound our way up and down the paths until we walked out into the clearing of the square leaving most of the crowd behind us. It was a cold night but pleasent from the lack of wind chill, and the square offered up its usual treasure; the people-watching. I giggled at a funny comment Ed murmured to me about some loud girls not far from us who'd had a bit too much eggnog, and while looking around us it hit me. I was out. I was living a normal life, and having fun like a normal person. And I wasn't afraid. I wasn't even slightly anxious. Elric's golden gaze held mine for a moment, washing warmth over me, and I couldn't stop myself. My arms latched around his hard torso in a fierce hug and I buried my face in his shoulder.

"Thank you." I whispered, breathing in the scent of soft leather mixed with his usual crisp and clean aroma. I felt him still in surprise, and just when I thought I had made a mistake and over-stepped a boundary, I felt his strong arms wrap around my shoulders.

"You're welcome."

* * *

We stayed in the market a bit longer, stopping at a couple booths so I could find something to bring to my Grandmother Pinako. She would be hosting Christmas as usual, and I wanted to bring her a little something as a thank you. I had been keeping my distance from her, in effort to keep her out of danger, but I knew I would have to come up with some excuse for my golden shadow. When I found the perfect item Edward insisted on paying for it, seeing how he would be crashing our holiday this year and didn't want to show up empty-handed. I surrendered after a few moments of back-and-forth, quickly realizing the man wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. We chatted animatedly about what our classic Christmas movie favorites were and as he opened his wallet and took out a bill, the cashier spied his hand and shrinked back. Edward had forgotten the glove he usually wore out in publc. The cashier quickly collected himself and went on as usual, taking the bill and handing back the change with shaky fingers. The spark of joy Ed's eyes held during our talk of A Christmas Story had quickly deflated to a state of clear disenchantment. He handed me the bag with Pinako's new smoking pipe and kept his gaze to the ground.

"Lets go." He grabbed my hand in his cold steel one and motioned to follow as we left the stand, but I pulled him to a stop at the crystal clear sound of a child's voice ringing out over the surrounding noise.

"Look Mommy! Look how shiny!" A little boy of no more than four was pointing at Edward's mechanical hand laced with my organic one with sparkling wonder in his chocolate eyes. "Mommy look at his hand, it shines like a Christmas ornament!"

The boy's Mother, clearly embarrassed by her son's outburst, danced her eyes back and forth between my smiling face and Ed's look of alarm. "Jake, dear, it's not polite to point or stare at people." She softly admonished, crouching down to her meet her son's eye level.

"But Mommy look at it! Look at the colors!" He responded enthusiastically, to which Ed and I looked at eachother clearly with the same question in mind. Colors? We looked down and sure enough, the glowing bulbs of red, green, blue and white that hung in the Christmas trees surrounding us were reflected bubbles of light in the silvery chrome of Edward's prosthetic.

"Jake that's enough." She grasped her son's hand and stood. "I apologize, Sir."

"It's okay!" I piped up with a smile. I could feel Ed's uneasiness and I gently nudged him forward as I stooped to address the boy.

"Hi Jake, my name's Winry, and this is my friend Edward." I looked up at Ed over my shoulder, his hand still clutching my own and his face the pure image of apprehension. "Would you like to see Edward's shiny hand?" The boys face lit up and I tugged Edward down next to me. Unlacing my fingers from Ed's, I held his hand out for the boy who happily grabbed it and yanked it up above his head to capture the glow of the Christmas lights once again. I couldn't help giggling at Ed's state of discomfort and I exchanged warm smiles with his Mother. The boy let go of the nervous State Alchemist a moment later and pulled his Mother close to bashfully whisper in her ear,

"Isn't it beautiful?"

My heart squeezed in my chest and I fought back tears, along with the urge to hug the boy. His Mother nodded in agreement, beaming proudly at her son who clearly saw the silver linings on dark clouds, and they wished us a Happy Holiday and went on their way. Edward sat slumped over next to me, staring at the ground where the boy stood with unseeing eyes.

"Ed? You okay?" He blinked back into reality at the sound of my voice, and stood pulling me up with him.

"I'm fine," He replied softly. "He just... he just reminded me of someone." My eyes roamed his face for a moment, taking in the furrowed brow, the hard and sorrowful eyes, the full lips set in a grim line.

"Tell me?" I asked quietly. I could see his internal battle playing across his features, and he finally breathed out a sigh of defeat. We had agreed to be more open.

"Most people don't know how to react when they see my automail. Usually they become nervous or even stare in shock, but they won't say anything and they tend to go the other way. Kids are a crap-shoot because they're so honest. Most of the time when they see their parents be wary of me, they in-turn become afraid. Sometimes they'll be a bit more vocal or descriptive when loudly announcing my strangeness to their parents, because kids don't have filters. Its uncommon for them to like me."

We made our way toward Broadway and hailed a cab home from there.

"I was twenty the last time I'd encountered someone like that boy. She was four years old, and her name was Nina."

* * *

We were home in front of the lit fire place when Edward finished telling me the heart-wrenching story of Nina. He had stopped several times during the explanation on the cab ride over, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to calm himself. I had placed my hand over his metal one and assured him that he didn't have to tell me about this if he didn't want to. But he shook his head and insisted, saying that it had been years since he'd last mentioned her to anyone and that she didn't deserve that.

It was nine years ago, and Ed had been sent upstate by the military to gaurd the Tucker household, which consisted of Shou Tucker -a scientist- and his four year-old, Nina. Tucker's wife had been murdered two years prior and the killer was now claiming to be back for Nina's life. Since Shou Tucker had been a scientist for the military for years, Roy Mustang -a colonol at the time- placed them in Edward's charge. Months went by with no incidents, during which Ed and Nina had become almost like siblings. When the military felt that the threat against the Tuckers had gone away, Edward was sent back to Central Command in the city to recieve his next assignment. When Ed returned three days later to retrieve a bag he'd forgotten, he'd walked in on the killer in Tucker's home. But it was too late.

"Shou Tucker was the killer all along." Ed explained. The flames from the fire place danced in his hard eyes and he continued. "He had gone mad years earlier, convinced that he could bring the dead to life. First he killed his wife and attempted to bring her back with science. When he failed he covered it up and spent the following two years researching what he couldve missed. He alerted the military knowing that they would send me, and I became the perfect distraction for Nina. He knew that I would wind up spending most of my time with her, keeping her happy and entertained so she wouldn't go looking for him. It bought him all the time he needed to prepare. When I came back, he had killed her and was shocking her dead body with electricity saying how he had discovered the key to life. Nina's biggest threat was tucking her in every night and I never noticed."

His gaze left the fire and refocused on my own.

"I got too close. I was too busy having a little sister and I wasn't focused on the mission. It should have been a red flag to me that the threats stopped as soon as I showed up."

I found myself at a loss for words, and I reached to cover his automail hand with mine but he pulled back, his golden gaze falling to the rug under us.

"I shouldn't be telling you this. You're not supposed to know anything about me." He said before recapturing my eyes with his own. "Nina got killed because I was distracted and let my gaurd down. I can't let that happen to you."

Worry shot through me; the idea of going back to living with a stranger was not something I was willing to entertain. I straightened up a bit and faced him bravely.

"We agreed to be open, remember? You telling me about yourself isn't going to get me killed."

"We agreed to be open but there are some things about what I do that I just can't tell you and you have to accept that. Nina is a lesson for the both of us to not get so comfortable. I saw her as a sister and spent too much time with her and not enough time focusing on Shou Tucker. I'm glad I could help you face a fear today but we can't keep having these heart-to-hearts that don't pertain to finding your stalker."

"I don't understand what you're getting at." I responded. He let out an exhasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair before locking his eyes on me.

"I can't risk becoming attached. I cared too much for Nina, and when she died it nearly killed me. I can't make the same mistake again, Winry. I can't let you be any more to me than a casual aquaintance."

He rose from his spot next to me and headed for the guest bedroom, but stopped briefly when my mind's filter stopped working and I blurted out,

"I could mean more to you?"

"No," He replied with a single shake of his head. "You can't."

* * *

I prepared for bed with a flurry of butterflies in my stomach and a million questions in my head. How could someone be so open one second and then completly shut down the next? How could he think that talking to me would mean letting his gaurd down? Was he insinuating that I could be important to him? I set down my hair brush on the sink and broke myself out of my hypnotic state, when the most important question surged to the fore front of my mind: Why did I care?

Why did it matter so much to me that we be more than strangers? He was here to protect me, thats all, and it pissed me off to hear him ordering me around like everyone else; telling me where to go, what to eat, how to dress. I knew he was only doing his job but I had to admit there was a small part of me that secretly hoped that his bossiness was a product not only of the military's concern, but his concern. I wanted him to care for my safety not because of his mission, but because it would mean he felt something for me. But why?

I stripped down to my lacy black undies and slid into bed, opting to sleep in my short silk robe; I hated wearing pajamas to bed only to wake up to them twisted around me uncomfortably. I shut off the bedside lamp and pulled the blankets over me, thinking about everything that had happened over the past weeks and realizing that while I had gotten the daylights scared out of me, no one had actually tried to hurt me. This brought a small smile to my face because it meant that maybe Ed was just being his normal, overprotective self. I would find a way to make him see that we didn't need to be strangers in order to keep me safe. Ever since he arrived, I had always been safe. Whoever was leaving me voicemails and sending me fake bodies was afraid of Edward.

But my moment of peace was lost on the idea that if my crazed stalker was afraid of Edward, perhaps I should be afraid of him too. He wouldn't tell me much about his life, and Mustang had yet to deliver any clues on who could be after me. What if the military were the ones behind this? Did Mustang want me gone? My mind raced back to Kimblee's words of warning. Was this why Edward said he couldn't become attached to me? What if Edward was sent here not to protect me, but to kill me?

My hand flew to my mouth with a gasp at the thought, and I told myself I had to be wrong. If Ed wanted to kill me, he could have easily done it anytime he wanted. Its not like I could put up much of a fight against a government assasin with steel appendages and enough weapons and gadgets to make Batman jealous. How could a ruthless killer look at me with those sunny eyes the way he did? Or have such a careful, feather-light touch on me as though I were made of glass? The military wouldn't waste so much time and tax-payer's money on orchestrating this just so they could get rid of me. A killer wouldn't stock my fridge. A killer wouldn't share his flaws with me. A killer wouldn't tell me to not be afraid.

But Edward was a killer. I just wasn't sure which side he was on.

I decided that it didn't matter whether I should fear an obsessive stalker or the man I'd been told to trust, because if I continued on and didn't force myself to get some sleep, then surely it would be my very own thoughts that would become the death of me.

A/N: The reviews have been wonderful, thank you all. I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors, I've been working with outdated technology and am doing the best I can. To answer a few points: yes Pinako is a little different in this story and isn't in it almost at all. She loves Winry very much but is still her usual ball-busting self. That's why she's all "take your stuff". Also, I cannot hint either way if Alphonse will or won't be a part of this story. I haven't finished the story yet, but I do know how it's going to end. I'm currently at a fork-in-the-road when it comes to Al. I've brainstormed two directions in which the story could go; one with Al and one without him. I love both storylines, so I haven't yet decided which road I'll take. Thank you all again for your valued attention, I'll be sure to repay your kindness with another chapter in a few days.


	10. Chapter 10

Some days,  
I feel everything at once.  
Other days,  
I feel nothing at all.

I don't know what's worse:  
Drowning beneath the waves Or dying from the thirst.

- o.m.

* * *

The warm sand against my back was a welcome contrast to the cold breeze slipping over my skin. The sun blazed high above me, and I stretched my arms to rest over my head as I gazed up at the clear, blue sky. My paradise only became better as Edward crawled over me, smirking in satisfaction as his amber eyes roamed my body. He eyed me like I was a steak dinner and I loved every second of it.

"Ed, how-"

"Shhh..." He hushed me quietly, putting a single digit to my lips as he leaned down and kissed me just below the ear. He placed another on my throat, then on my collar bone as he ran his flesh finger from my lips slowly down my neck and over my chest to part the soft fabric of my shirt and lay a kiss on my sternum. Warmth bloomed through me. I let out a sigh of happiness, and closed my eyes as his strong hands continued to explore. I went to rake my fingers through his long strands of spun wheat, but found I couldn't move my exhausted arms from their position over my head. So I laid back, enjoying the hot sand against my flesh and the cold breeze in my hair. He growled as he gripped my thighs and pushed my long legs apart to settle himself between. He wore dark jeans that rode low on his hips and nothing else; he wasted no time letting me know of his intentions as he grabbed my hips and pulled me against him so I could feel his need through the fabric. He grinned at me wickedly, and I watched his head dip down to start nipping at my skin, working his way up. His grinding against me quickened my breathing, and his teeth gently grazed over my skin, nipping and sucking. Desire raged through me as he worked his way over my shoulders, his careful and steady movements becoming hurried as his resolve began to slip. His thrusts grew stronger, his fingers dug into my hip harshly, and when his lips found the swell of my breast, he bit down.

I cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, and his hand swiftly clapped over my mouth and we were nose to nose as he glared at me.

"Shut up." He growled. And then he kissed me roughly, his tongue forcing it's way past my lips. He tasted like tequila.

Edward hated tequila.

My eyes snapped open and my paradise was gone. I was in my room, with my hands tied to my headboard, and someone was sitting between my legs, pushing my silk robe open to run their hands down my nakedness towards my underwear.

I screamed.

* * *

Fire exploded from my cheekbone when he hit me.

"Shut up, bitch!" He roared.

Fear sliced through me as he gripped a fistful of my hair, forcing my head to the side as he dragged his textured tongue over the skin he had back-handed. I couldn't make out his features in the darkness. Ed's brilliant eyes always cut through blackness, but I couldn't see the intruder's. He reeked of stale cigarettes and when he kissed me his breath was rank with an alcohol that Edward never drank. I could feel from the way his punishing hands gripped whatever he pleased that they were both flesh, and I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a choked sob as his fingers moved to slip under my lacey black panties. But he never made it there.

My bedroom door slammed open and I felt the weight my attacker swiftly dragged off me and out the door, into the living room. The distinctive ratchet of a gun's hammer pulling back sounded through the apartment, and a single shot blasted out. Above the man's agonized screaming came Ed Elric's voice, clear and deadly.

"Stay there and keep your mouth shut, or I'll shoot the other knee."

Humiliation rolled over me as I curled myself into a ball on my side, turned away from the violence happening mere feet from me. Uneven footfalls came into my room. Elric said nothing as he pulled my robe over my exposed body, and brandished a pocket knife to cut me loose. Lowering my arms was almost painful from being bound uncomfortably above me for so long, and he gently turned me on my back to look at me. I opened my eyes and was met with his expression of grave seriousness, and his eyes roamed my body quickly looking for any obvious injuries before settling back on my face. Warm fingers carefully examined the shiney red skin on my cheek that would surely be black and blue the next morning. Despite his usual feather-light touch, pain radiated across my face from the sore skin and I sucked in a breath.

Edward straightened up and scooped me into his arms, carrying me past my attacker in the living room and into the guest room where he settled me into his bed and pulled his fur blanket over me.

"Backup's on it's way. I pushed the panic button on my phone when I heard yelling. Until they get here I need to deal with this guy. Will you be okay for a couple minutes?"

His steady gaze on me did little to calm my nerves, and my speeding heartrate hadn't slowed, but I nodded my head sollumly, telling myself I was a big girl. He released the empty cartridge from his gun and slid a new magazine into it as he headed back into the livingroom with handcuffs and duct tape to deal with the man who was bleeding all over my hard-wood floors. I pulled myself to sit up and watched Edward from the warmth of his sheets as he dragged over a chair from the kitchen table and forced the intruder into it. After handcuffing him and taping his ankles to the chair legs, Ed moved to the front door when Roy Mustang's voice bellowed from the other side of it.

I didn't want Roy or anyone else from the military to see me. It was embarrassing enough that they would know what happened tonight but they didn't have to see me like this, so I slipped out of bed and moved into the bathroom. The mirror showed me a face far more tragic that what I had imagined. My eyes were glossy from fought-back tears, my hair was tangled in knots from thrashing around, the bruise on my cheek seemed to be darkening by the minute. Purple shadows fell under my tired eyes and I opened my silk robe to examine the rest of me. My hip showed the evidence of where his fingers gripped me roughly, and my hand flew to my mouth as a wave of nausea swept over me. Along the top of my breast were the distinctive markings of teeth. A vicious-looking bite that nearly drew blood, and left red and purple gouges in my porcealin skin.

I only vaguely heard the sound of my name coming from the bedroom. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the mess in the mirror. My boiling cup of anger and humiliation had finally runneth over, and tears spilled down my bruised face. When Edward came into my view his face was etched with concern, his eyes wide and wary, clearly trying to find the right words but coming up empty. Without saying anything I knew he was blaming himself for this. I didn't have it in me to stay strong any longer. I didn't have the strength left to push away my emotions any more. The dam broke, Ed pulled me into his arms, and I sobbed.

* * *

A/N: Thank you very much for all of your reviews. More soon.


	11. Chapter 11

The thing about pain,  
Is it won't last forever,

And it kills you right now,  
But with time it gets better,

The thing about scars,  
Is they all start to fade,

Until nothing is left,  
Of the cuts that were made,

The thing about today,  
Is there's always tomorrow,

And if you can't find your smile,  
I have one you can borrow,

The thing about help,  
Is beside you it stands,

But it won't know it's needed,  
Unless you reach out your hand,

The thing about love,  
Is you can't feel it's touch,

Until you let someone know,  
That this world is too much.

-e.h.

The rest of the night was spent in Central and bled into dawn. Mustang and his team had taken the intruder, a man I had learned was actually an active duty member of the military and someone who worked alongside Roy. His name was Frank Archer, and Mustang had never felt that he was fully trustworthy. He had made it known more that once that he craved power; something that didn't sit well with Brigadier General Mustang since it meant Archer would be gunning for his job. But Roy always knew the importance of keeping an enemy close, and Frank Archer was now being kept somewhere in Central, soon to be interrogated.

I had been sent along with my doctors to the lab so they could draw blood and run various tests, and my hands never seemed to stop their shaking. Edward had refused to leave my side. He chose some colorful phrases for the doctor that dared to suggest he should wait outside the lab while they took a blood sample. His anger simmered under a collected exterior, but was quickly rising to to a boil when I was dismissed from the lab and we were shown back to Mustang's office.

The glass walls of Roy's office where newly fogged at the click of a remote, sheilding him from any onlookers with the use of a technology allowing large panes of glass to alternate between transparent and opaque. He called for Ed to come in alone.

"She's not staying out here."

"Winry will be fine, this is Central." Roy reminded him.

"She was attacked by a soldier from Central." Ed retorted.

"While one of Central's most qualified was supposed to be keeping her safe. Leave her with Hawkeye and get in here now."

Elric's eyes darkened and he looked back at me for a moment, silently asking if I'd be alright. I gave him a slight nod and settled myself into a chair outside Mustang's office as Ed entered and closed the glass door behind him. Several minutes ticked by, during which Riza was kind enough to get me a cup of tea and sit with me. Voices from inside the office began to rise, slowly becoming louder as one fought to overcome the others.

I began to recongnize not only the voices of Roy and Ed, but also of Warrant Officer Vato Falman, 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc, 2nd Lieutenant Hymans Breda, Lieutenant Colonal Maes Hughes, and Master Sergant Cain Feury. The detail of their words were muffled, but inflection in their voices made the emotion unmistakeable. Havoc, Feury, and Hughes's voices rang in steady rhythm. They were known to be calm, analyizing, and often times the first to offer possible solutions to problems. Breda was the guy who had everyone's back, the strong supporter who would latch onto a cause once he found one he could stand behind. The optimisim in his voice carried through the thick glass. It had been argued before that Vato Falman was too emotional for the military, a trait that brought on his grey hair early, but his passion for human decency was something to be treasured and Roy kept him around as a reminder of that. His heart always on his sleeve, Falman's shakiness seemed to reverb from behind the walls signaling his clear discomfort with whatever they were discussing. Mustang's distinction powered through the commotion with the unmistakable authority of someone giving orders, and when it seemed the dust had settled, a new rage shattered through the room.

"That's bullshit and you know it! You can't expect me to just sit by!" My heart lept into my throat and I exchanged a look of alarm with Riza. I had never heard Ed so angry, and from the look on her face I guessed she hadn't either. Muffled voices responded, no doubt in effort to reason with him.

"Not a fucking chance!" Ed shouted back. Mustang's door was yanked open and Edward stomped out, seething and clenching his fists at his side. I watched nervously as he steeled himself, and called back to the men who were all now emerging from behind the glass walls. "I'll take care of everything. I've got control, we'll be fine."

"Do you, Fullmetal?" Roy challenged. His hardened black eyes seemed to bore into Ed's back. "You need to keep it together, Ed. We can't afford to get sloppy. You can't lose focus EVER. I'll send in a replacement if that's what it takes." Edward's eyes went wide and he turned to face Roy as he sighed.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe someone else should be protecting Winry."

"NO!" I yelped. Every head in the room snapped to my direction, and I shrank back in embarrassment. "Um, no. Please, what happened wasn't Ed's fault. I'm okay, really. I... I don't want to start all over again, living with a new stranger. Please don't make me."

Mustang's eyes danced back and forth between Ed and myself, and my skin began to crawl under his assessing gaze. It was easy to see why this man made people nervous.

"Winry we have to wonder if this arrangment may not be working. We sent Edward to protect you and find who's been threatening you, and it took Frank Archer attacking you for us to actually get any solid leads. Its not like us to take so long bringing down an enemy." He said, casting his repremanding glare at Edward. "We need to wrap this up. I better not hear of another incident like this, Fullmetal. You were sent to do a job and tonight you've done it poorly. But you may be able to redeem yourself by interrogating Archer for me. Normally I'd do it myself, but I fractured a bone in my hand interrogating the last scumbag I was forced to deal with so I won't have much influence over Archer. I know he won't give me information easily."

Ed's icy glare intensified as he flexed his metal fingers threateningly.

"He'll answer to me."

* * *

It was mid day when we finally returned to my apartment. Ed had been as quiet as he was when we first met, clearly trenched in thought. My heart sank when we walked in and he immediatly retired to the guest room without a word and shut the door. I was reading on the floor in front of the fire when he emerged hours later. Ambers cut through the darkness and the fire's soft illumination revealed the tiredness etched into him. He crossed the room to the kitchen and pulled an ice pack from the freezer, handing it to me as he sat next to me on the plush rug.

"That bruise is swelling up." He said as I held to ice to my face. "We're lucky he didn't break a bone."

"Are you mad at me?" I interrupted. He blinked in surprise at my question.

"What gives you that idea?"

"You're doing it again. You're being grouchy and secretive. You do that when you're angry at me."

"I'm angry at myself!" He barked. "Look at you. You're black and blue because of me. Every night I'm supposed to check the locks on the door and windows. But last night I forgot. Archer was watching us. He was waiting for me to slip up because he knew I would."

"Its my fault too. I could have checked the fire escape window in my room but I didn't. Its just as much my fault and now Mustang is angry with both of us."

"No, he's pissed at me."

"I know you probably want out of here." I said, my voice tightening with emotion. "Mustang gave you the opportunity to leave and let someone replace you, and I messed it up because I'm afraid. I shouldn't have been so selfish. Why should you waste your life being stuck here with me? You have every right to be mad at me. I understand if you want to go."

He took me by the shoulders and forced me to look at him.

"I'm angry at Archer for reasons that go far beyond what he did to you. Reasons that I can't explain to you. I beat him bloody earlier and I'm still not satisfied. I'm furious at Mustang for allowing me to stay here. I'm angry because I'm afraid of what will happen."

"I don't understand." His grip on me tightened.

"I always know exactly what to do. Exactly how to handle any situation I face. But now I'm torn between leaving and staying. Rationality says that I should go, because I've gotten sloppy from too much time spent out of the field. I'm becoming too relaxed here, and I'm making mistakes and taking unnessesary risks that could cost you your life. That isn't fair to you."

He relaxed his grip on me. "But now there's something else here. I thought it was the same feeling I had when guarding Nina, and that was unnerving enough, but this is different."

I stared back at him and tried to calm my racing heart as he locked his eyes on mine.

"I care about you Winry. I care about you more than I should and that's really dangerous, for you physically and for me psychologically. I can't make the same mistakes I did with Nina. I got comfortable, I got emotional, and then I left and she was killed."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm not going anywhere. I'm worried if I do you'll wind up dead, so you're stuck with me until I catch this guy and kill him. Mustang can send whoever the hell he wants here to gaurd you, I'm not leaving. But I need you to stop."

"Stop what?" I asked.

"Stop being you."

"Stop being me? Is this you trying to make me feel better? I was sexually assaulted last night, you know." He raked his hand through his hair and let out an exhasperated growl.

"I need you to stop...trying to get close to me. Stop caring about me. Stop doing things that make me care about you." It was like someone was squeezing my brain.

"Wait," I said. "I'm confused, you're not making any sense right now. You say you're mad at anyone but me, and that you shouldn't stay here, but that I'm stuck with you, yet you're telling me to go away? Last night was both our faults, but I know you won't let it happen again. Everything is fine."

"Stop acting like everything is fine." He shot back. "You were nearly raped. Don't be so casual about it." I blanched at his frankness, and his shoulders sagged seemingly from the exhaustion of dealing with me. I set down the ice pack and twisted the hem of my slouchy sweater nervously, my hands resting in my lap as I looked away from him. He really had a way of making me feel like a child. I was about to collect my book and head to bed when the deep rasp of his voice stopped me.

"You don't know what it did to me." His face was raw with anger, fear, anxiety, I couldn't decide and I watched him speculativly as he gazed into the flames. "I heard you scream, and it made me remember things I wish I could forget. Then seeing him crawling over you, with that sick smirk of his-" His sentence choked off and he grimaced before continuing. "I can't believe how much shit you put up with. The kind of life you're forcing yourself to have to save a world of people that don't even know you exist. I mean fuck, Archer works on the team in charge of keeping some of the military's top assignments a secret, including you." His expression only became more pained, and for a moment it felt as if I wasn't in the room anymore. I was a fly on the wall, watching the walls of this carefully guarded fortress start to crumble from the onslaught. "He was supposed to be on our side. Sure he wants Mustang's job, lots of people do. But Feury and Hughes said he always prioritized your well-being. Why would he do this now? Why would anyone torment you like this?"

His raw, golden eyes swerved over to hold my gaze. "Winry, are you okay?"

I found myself in the all-too-familiar state of being unable to breathe, and in that moment I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream, cry, or kiss him. It had been years since anyone had looked at me with so much sincerity and asked how I was. I could tell his question was completely unrelated to the security of the mission, or his concern for keeping his job. He took my hand in his warm one and ran his thumb over my knuckles. He was worried about me. Tears sprang in my eyes and I couldn't stop my shaking lip.

"No." I whispered. I let out a sob and the tears ran free. "I'm exhausted. I'm so tired of living like this. I'm so sick of smiling all the time and acting like everythings okay. I'm tired of telling myself to grow up and get over being lonely." I looked back at him through the swimming blurriness. "I always feel alone. I have friendly aquaintances, but no one I can really talk to. Everyone assumes that I'm happy doing this but I'm not happy anymore. I'm not satisified being caged here anymore. I don't feel safe the way I once did." His thumb brushed over my knuckles again and thats when it dawned on me. He was holding my hand. His flesh hand was supporting my own and the sensation of his fingers over mine only further pressed my need to feel something new. I drew in a shuddering breath.

"I haven't been okay for a long time. Longer than you've been living here. I'm sad a lot. I'm lonely. I have the most agonizing wanderlust. I get lost in stories and poems that take me to the most vivid faraway places, and I fall in love and build relationships with these fictional characters because theres no one else in my life. Then one day its all over and I look up from the last page of the book and I want to cry because I'm still here!" Edward's face is beyond crestfallen during my monologue. I sniff loudly and wipe my nose on my sleeve in a most unladylike way as the tears subside a bit. "I'm addicted to the written word, but no one ever prepares you for the emptiness you feel when you finish a book. Its even worse when you look around and realize you have no one to talk to about it. No one prepared me to feel like this all the time."

His ashen expression regards me with untold amounts of concern, and suddenly something flickers in his gaze. As if I could see the deliberation between options happening in his mind.

"How can I help?" He asks. I sit back and lean my head against the couch with a sigh.

"I don't think there's much you can do at this point. Unless you can help me feel something else right now. My head is pounding; I really just want to feel anything besides what I've been feeling tonight." My mind had the intentions of him coming up with one of his usual quips to make me laugh or roll my eyes, or for him to launch into a story of one of his past missions to distract me. I was not expecting his worried, fearful eyes to close and then open a moment later with newfound determination set in. He stood and pulled me up with him, tugging me behind him as I followed into the guest suite and then the large guest bathroom.

"You're shaking." He regarded, staring down at me.

"I'm cold. Or it could be adrenaline. I've never told any of that to anyone before, its a bit overwhelming." He reached into the stall and turned on the shower, and plumes of steam began to fill the room.

"Get in."

"I'm not getting naked!" I reply shrinking back in horror.

"I didn't say that, I said get in." I eyed him suspiciously. He kicked off his boots and tested the temperature of the water falling from the ceiling-mounted head like rain showers. He stepped into the stall, jeans and tshirt still on, and offered me a hand.

"Now come on." He insisted. I stood outside the stall regarding him with apprehension.

"Winry, you're not alone." He said, "I'm here with you and you can trust me. You wanted to feel something else." I found myself blinking back at him in amasement and my hand fell into his as he pulled me into the stall and under the shower with him. The warmth cascading over me seemed to melt the shaky stiffness from my shoulders and I instantly sagged in exhaustion; the events of the previous 24 hours had finally caught up with me. Ed pulled me to him and my head fell on his chest, and before I knew it I was crying again. He must have felt my body shaking with quiet sobs because he pulled back and looked at me.

"Woah, okay you gotta stop with the tears. It guts me to watch you cry. Seriously, knock it off." I didn't know where the brazeness of my next move came from, the emotion, the adrenaline, who knows. But I stepped to him again closing the distance between us and craned my neck up at him. His hands had found their place, fingers splayed across my back and his eyes danced back and forth between mine.

"Make me." I whispered bravely. "Make me stop crying."

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for your patience and devotion to this story. I'm still writing the end and I'm nearly finished. I will be away on vaction for a week and unable to reach my matierial to upload a new chapter until I get back to the city, but rest assured I will be writing while away. I will upload chapter 12 tomorrow night just before I fly out, I wouldn't dream of leaving you hanging for a week when the sparks are about to fly. Thank you all for your inspiring reviews.


	12. Chapter 12

If you feel like you're falling apart,  
fall into my arms.  
I promise I will catch every little piece of you and I promise I will always love your brokenness.

-Anita Krizzan

* * *

Elric's lips parted as he sucked in a breath. Warm water rained over us, soaking our hair and clothes to cling to our skin; a single trail of warmth dripping off the tip of his slope nose and landing on my cheek. His method was indeed effective, for I found myself feeling something entirely different. Something new. He loomed over me, all broad shoulders and domineering intensity in his gaze. My hands rested limply on his chest, feeling the taughtness of lean muscle through his drenched t-shirt, and his hand moved to my nape craning my head for him to leer over me.

"How are you feeling now?" He murmured. His warmth breath on my skin and his mouth so close to mine were then the only things I could notice as my enviornment fell away from me. The hot water seemingly evaporated, leaving us surrounded by clouds of steam.

"Like I'm in a dream. The kind that you can't remember when you wake up. I feel...safe here." I said, "What about you?"

His fiery gaze widened a fraction before his brow furrowed and he closed his eyes, pulling me closer to rest his forehead against my own.

"Terrified. I've seen a lot of frightening things, but I've never been more scared than I am right now."

"Why?" His eyes opened fractionally to find mine under hooded lids.

"Because I don't know what will happen after tonight. You shouldn't feel so powerless. You scare me more than anyone I've ever faced."

"I scare you? What could possibly happen that you would be afraid of?" His fingers laced through my hair and he let out a sigh of defeat.

"This." And he brushed his lips against mine.

* * *

His soft lips slipped over my own in slow, feather-light strokes of skin on skin, sending my mind far away from coherant thought; my only tie to the physical world being his mouth moving over me as his lips steadily gained strength, the sensation of his tongue slipping into me and caressing my own like warm velvet. My fingers curled into the wet fabric of his shirt on their own accord, every soft lap of his tongue draining me of the energy to stand, and suddenly there was cold tile against my back supporting me as he pressed his body into mine, his kisses diving further. My arms slipped around his neck, encouraging him to angle for deeper access as strong hands pressed me against a hard body. A tightening in my lower belly crept within me, a feeling not unknown to me, but an intensity unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't surpress my soft moan, and unfortunatly it was enough to surpress the moment because Ed suddenly pushed back from me.

"Shit...I..." He panted, "Fuck, -I shouldn't have... Winry I'm sorry." My befuddled brain couldn't catch up with his hysteria. He backed away to the other side of the shower stall, heaving with hands in his wet hair, eyes wild and sculpted mouth slightly swollen. He was mezmerizing. Before I knew it he was gone, shucking his sodden shirt to the bathroom floor as he stode to the guest room. I was left immobilized, panting, and suddenly very pissed off. Gathering my wits, I turned off the shower and squeezed the excess water from my hair and slouchy sweater before storming after him. I walked into the bedroom just as those gray sweats of his that I secretly loved fell into place, dangerously low on his hips. He didn't turn to face me, but I knew better than to assume he didn't hear me coming to stand in the doorway.

My mouth instantly watered and my airway seized up as I took in the sculpture of his naked back up close for the first time. It was amazing that the first time I saw his exposed skin I was so shaken by his scars; seeing him up close made me look past the imperfections entirely. He rummaged through drawers and I wasted no time in appreciating the way a singluar bead of water slid over the rippling contours of his shoulders, gliding down his spine to rest at the small of his back. His damp hair clung to his skin in piecy whisps as it began to dry from dark rum to brilliant gold, and I had to remind myself that just because he was a sight to behold, didn't give him license to play with my emotions. I opened my mouth to address him when he whipped around, glaring at me like a feral cat.

"If my appearance is disturbing to you then stop staring. You'll do us both a favor." Before leaving he tugged a wide neck shirt over his head; long sleeves, for the first time in weeks.

_'Oh no.'_ My heart lept in my throat as my anger drained away. He assumed the worst. But what was I supposed to say? Sorry I was gawking at you because I want to jump your bones? Somehow I felt that wouldn't be any less awkward, so I decided to cling to anger as I followed him out towards the kitchen.

"Don't do me the dishoner of assuming I would judge you by your appearance, I think we've become aquainted far past the point of pre-concieved notions." He pulled a beer from the fridge, twisted the cap off and took a swig as I continued, "And while we're on the subject of us being 'well aquainted', how exactly did you expect me to react to a stunt like that? Don't you dare pretend to be totally oblivious to your effect on women." He rolled his eyes.

"Its just a face. Once the clothes come off, women suddenly become less charmed by me." He remarked bitterly. This stopped me.

"Wait, you clearly knew what you were doing back there. How could you pull that off if you haven't -um..." He nearly choked on his beer.

"I've had sex! I've just learned a few lessons. Keep the lights off, leave before morning, don't let them spy on you in the shower." He finished with the raise of a critial brow. I had the decency to blush. He returned to our previous spot on the rug in front of the fireplace, once again leaving me to stammar for the right retort.

"I wasn't staring, I swear." He shot me an incredulous look. "I didn't mean anything by it -I mean, I couldn't help -argh!" I hid my face in my hands. This was beyond embarrassing. I moved to sit on the floor near him. "You left me totally high and dry back there. My head was spinning. I was trying to think of what to say after you freaked out and I just... couldn't get any words out. It's got nothing to do with appearances." Well, it sort of did. He was gorgeous.

"None of that should have happened." He said. "I shouldn't have been in there with you, I'm a mess. I'm all over the fucking place. I shouldn't have done that." He emptied his bottle and set it on the concrete slab at the base of the fireplace.

"I could've said no." I responded. "Its my fault too. I'm not innocent here. Don't blame yourself because I'm just as guilty for giving in." He gave a small shake of his head.

"Not anymore you're not. I'm packing up and leaving. I'll call for someone else to come." I was certain my insides had turned to ice.

"But you said you wouldn't leave. You said you were afraid something would happen if you did. You said you wouldn't leave!" I panicked.

"I've said and done a lot of things during my time here that I shouldn't have. You aren't supposed to know ANYTHING about me. We're supposed to be nothing more than professional aquiantences." He said. "I was sent here to do a job and so far I've broken just about every rule since I've been here. If Mustang ever found out he would crucify me."

"Is that all I am to you? A job?" I asked. His eyes blazed.

"Don't you get it? You've become far too important to me, and that's why I have to leave."

"Edward, be reasonable." I said. "We can forget the whole thing. We'll play by the rules from now on if you want. Just please don't go." I could see him quickly losing his patience.

"Winry! I should have left weeks ago! I should've packed my shit and ran the second I realized that this was different. I was wrong to worry about this turning into another 'Nina' situation, because this is NOTHING like that. This is far worse. Don't turn on the tears and beg me to stay because it won't work, I won't allow it!"

Fury burned inside my chest and it took everything in me to force down the lump in my throat. He could yell all he wanted, I wasn't going down without a fight. He told me before that he was staying, there was no way in hell I'd let him break his promise.


	13. Chapter 13

Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs

-Salvador Dali

* * *

We glared at eachother, chests heaving from hollering at one another. Our back-and-forth had brought us exponentially closer, until we were nose-to-nose, and we had both risen to our knees from a sitting position in a semi-concious attempt at overpowering one another. It didn't help me much, I still had to tilt my chin upward so I could glare daggers at him. I couldn't figure out if the rising temperature in the room came from the crackling fire, or the tension in the air, or the way his furious eyes bore into me with such strength.

"You are by far the most complicated, confusing, and infuriating woman I've ever dealt with. I can't take it anymore, I need to go." He said.

"You're not exactly a joy to deal with either." I retorted. "You're a moody, stubborn pain in the ass and I don't want a different soldier in my house who I have to figure out. I'd rather just deal with your mood swings since I'll know what to expect. That's why you should stay."

My eyes danced back and forth between each of his. I was no match for those eyes, they were my complete undoing and I hated it. I hating finally admitting to myself that I was hopelessly attracted to this irritating, aggrivating, absolutly beautiful man. Suddenly his expression changed. His eyes softened and his mouth parted as he sadly sighed in defeat. His thumb softly stroked my cheek and any brain activity I'd previously possessed had been reduced to white noise.

"I can't function around you. You completely disarm me. You're gonna get us both killed."

I could feel myself gaping at him, at a loss for how to respond. The mood shifted. I could taste his hot breath, a result of us breathing the same air, and I dragged my eyes away from his strong mouth to meet his gaze above me once again. His eyes were different. That intensity was back. The overwhelming force of his gaze that permeated my flesh to seize every part of me. His brow furrowed, and he let out an exasperrated growl that nearly sent me into a gasping fit when his warm breath hit my skin. Edward Elric may have still been an enigma to me in many ways, but when I looked in his eyes the message was unmistakable. He wanted me.

"What're you waiting for?" I whispered bravely.

"I can't start anything with you." He replied darkly, clearly fighting some internal battle. My expression must've shown my confusion because he gulped and elaborated quietly.

"State Alchemists are forbidden from becoming involved with the people they're protecting. It's bad enough that I've become so attached to you. I don't want to have to lie to Mustang when he asks me if I started this."

He gave me a desperate look that I had never seen from him before. A few seconds went by, in which time the kitchen timer in my mind made its resounding ping of realization. Clearly he had no intention of following rules, but at least Ed wouldn't have to lie to a superior officer if they came asking questions and make his track record that much worse..

"Its not worth it." I swallowed, trying to convince myself to be responisble, to give the poor guy a break and let him leave. "Don't risk your career because of me."

Edward squashed my prudish reasoning when he growled out the most heart-stopping thing I'd ever heard a man say.

"Don't make me beg, woman."

My last thread of restraint had snapped.

I launched myself at him, kissing him forcefully, and that was all he needed. I found myself on the floor with his solid body over mine, his strong hands all over me gripping the flesh under my wet shirt while his mouth moved deeper into mine so that his tongue could perform magic. As intoxicating as he always smelled, his taste did far more to cloud my mind. I couldn't think, and I couldn't breathe. Fireworks went off in my mind and warmth bloomed in my chest. Suddenly he stopped and pulled back to look at me.

"You're not breathing, why?" He asked sternly. I strangly felt like a kid who'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. It was true, I had been holding my breath. I couldn't help it if he had that effect on me. I squeaked out a response.

"I don't know, It's just hard to breath around you."

His eyes went molten gold and he leaned down to whisper hotly in my ear.

"Breathe, Winry." I felt a warm, wet kiss just below my ear and I let out a sigh of bliss. His hand snaked down my body to rest his palm between my legs as the kisses on my neck turned into nips on my collarbone. When he forcefully bit down on my shoulder, his strong hand pressed against me _hard_ and I sucked in a gasp of air. His lips found mine again in hot, full contact; my hands tangled in his hair and clung to his broad shoulders. When he parted my legs and ground his hips into me, I moaned loudly and found myself panting. Edward Elric would spend the rest of the night forcing me to breathe.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading, I enthusiastically welcome your thoughts on these two chapters, since you've been patiently wading through all the angst to finally get to the 'good stuff'. Don't think we're done here though, theres way more angst on the way. As well as 'good stuff'. See you all in 10 days.


	14. Chapter 14

You were different.  
I let my walls come down for you.

-unknown

* * *

My eyes fluttered open to bright sunlight flooding my bedroom, reflected briliantly off the snow outside. Dragging myself into consciousness, I looked down and grinned sublimely at the feel of my sheets against my naked body as the events of the previous night came surging back. He was powerful and careful, wild while in control, slowly savoring the decadance of entering before surrendering us both to the clutches of primal nature. Warmth spread through me as I recalled the touches, the whispers, the sighs, and how they steadily wound the coils in my lower belly; tightening exponentially with his gradual loss of control before snapping spectacularly as we gave in to each other. Whever lines he felt he'd crossed before were peanuts compared to the things he'd done to me that night.

The bed was empty next to me, but the aroma of freshly brewed coffee carried from the kitchen and I rose to pull on my silk robe, gathering myself as I slid out into the livingroom, ready to face 'the morning after'. Riza was on my couch with a cup of coffee, eyes fixated on the crown roast being made on tv. She turned her attention to me and gave me her usual calm smile.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?"

I froze. Did she know? Was she being facetious or genuine?

"Um, yea. I did." It wasn't a lie. A mind-blowing night like that had left me dead to the world. "Have you seen Ed?"

"Only briefly last night as he was leaving." My stomach dropped, and I quickly crossed the room to the guest suite. Everything was gone. My sheets that were previously folded in the closet were back on the bed. His small arsenal was missing, every sign of his presence in my home had completely vanished. The sight knocked the wind out of me. Everything was pristine, just as it was before his arrival. I opened the drawers to find Riza's simple collection of belongings.

"Didn't he mention he was leaving?" She asked from the doorway.

I couldn't turn to face her for fear that she would read me like a book. I quickly blinked back moisture and steadied my breathing. He did tell me he was leaving. I just thought... After last night... I shook my thoughts away and turned to her.

"Oh, yea he did. I just forgot. Silly me." I said with a fake smile. "Please make yourself at home. I'm gonna hop in the shower." She returned to her spot on the sofa as I moved to my room and shut the door behind me. My throat was unbearably tight, straining from the weight of unreleased misery. Staggering toward the bathroom, I paused when my bare foot came in contact with plush softness and I looked down to find the only evidence of Ed's existence. The fur blanket.

That awful blanket that served as the warm foundation for the beginning of our intoxicating night. That stupid fur blanket that he dragged behind him when he playfully threw me over his shoulder before striding into by bedroom with his arrogant smirk, and me giggling with mirth the whole way. That absurb fur blanket that he curled around my shivering form when I came down from the stars. That damn blanket that he'd ripped off me an hour later and tossed to the floor, signaling the start of round two. That fucking blanket.

That _fucking asshole._

I let out a fierce growl, grabbed the damned thing and heaved it across the room. Not that it got very far, being so heavy. I huffed angrily and made my way to the shower, deciding that if I was going to cry it would be somewhere that I wouldn't be able to tell if it was water or tears falling down my skin.

* * *

Days blurred together as I went about my normal monthly rountine. THe only difference was the newly-acquired crippling anxiety I felt walking into Central command with Riza. I was due for blood tests again, but this time the doctors wanted to test a virus to observe how my body would clear it. My mind was pre-occupied with the fear of possibly seeng Ed somewhere in Central and completely losing it. But I knew Elric would never be dumb enough to let that happen. After getting myself changed into a hospital gown and situated in a bed in the ICU, Riza was about to leave me so the doctors could begin the tests when she hesitated.

"Are you okay? You look really pale." She inquired. I was nervous. Tests never really bothered me but I found myself wishing Edward were there with me. Or that he at least cared enough to be concerned about me. Angry tears threatened to fall, but I blinked them back and smiled weakly.

"I'm fine, just hungry from not being allowed to eat. I'm gonna stuff my face as soon as I'm out of here." I knew she didn't buy it. Nothing got past Hawkeye.

"Winry is there something I should know? Anything you need to get off your chest? You've been so different ever since I arrived." I couldn't stop my quivering lip and I kept my attention focused on my lap.

"I'm alright, really." I insisted. She eyed me speculatively before leaving for the waiting room as the doctors came in.

I was laying on my couch that night with a pint of Ben and Jerry's waiting for the aching in my muscles to ease. The test had been successful, my blood had cleared the virus in a matter of hours. I was now waiting for the last of the side effects to wane when Riza set down her iPad and lowered the tv volume.

"Did something happen? Between you and Ed, I mean." Suddenly my cookie dough ice cream lost some of its appeal. I sat up, fidgeting nervously.

"How do you mean?"

"I know you two were friendly, there's nothing wrong with that if that's why you're nervous." She started. "But something's been off with him. You didn't see his face that night as he was leaving. He looked...guilty. Kind of devastated. Like he'd give his other arm to be able to stay. And you've been the personification of melancholy. Did you guys have a big fight or something just before he left?"

My mind rocketed back to his breath on my skin. His hands caressing, stroking, gripping me. My fingers laced with cool metal. His mouth, hot, wet, and unrelenting. My name growled out in primal fashion. Nope. No fighting then.

"Uh yea," I lied. "We fought. I think we were both going stir crazy from sitting here for so long. We drove eachother nuts, and I said some rotten things." I did my best to feign guilt.

"Well whatever happened, he didn't seem happy to be leaving. He wanted me to tell you he's sorry and hopes you'll forgive him. Ed may be stubborn and cranky, but he's not a bad person."

It took every ounce of me to act normal at that moment. How could he expect me to forgive him for jerking me around like that? After he spent weeks switching back and forth between pulling me closer and pushing me away, showing me he cared and telling me he couldn't, kissing me in the shower then ready to pack his bags, loving me so passionately then disappearing the next morning. Rage burned in my chest and I shoved another spoonful of ice cream in my mouth to keep from saying something I'd most likely regret. When I collapsed into bed a few hours later, my nose caught the familiar scent of crisp, clean earthiness lingering on the fur blanket that was spread over my sheets. My self-abusing soul just couldn't stop the tears.

* * *

Time passed and Christmas had come and gone before I knew it. I was able to venture out to Queens to spend Christmas Day with my Grandmother -whom I'd decided to keep in the dark about the stalker business- and it was a welcome break from the confines of my apartment. Gifting her the smoking pipe from Union Square was fresh turn of the blade wedged in my heart when I remembered that she would never meet the man who had purchased it.

Security at home had relaxed considerably since Ed's departure. Investigations had spent weeks running the voice recording Ed made of the disturbing phone call through Central's database of convicted felons searching for a match, only to come up empty. But Maes Hughes decided to go against the grain of proper protocol and ran the file against the database of active duty members and came up with a match; Frank Archer. Mustang had suspected him of everything since the night he attacked me, but corruption above him had greatly slowed the investigation. Someone above the General had wanted me out of the picture, and when properly motivated, Archer sang like a bird.

He confessed to the phone calls, the notes, the list of names sent to Mustang, everything but the fake body and eyeball. Credit for those went to two accomplices of Archer's; a pair that he knew nothing about, never met, and was simply taking orders from via a series of typed letters which he later burned. So while my stalker was taken care of, Central was still scrambling to figure out who was pulling the strings. Mustang and Hughes were hitting roadblocks at every turn, finding passwords denied by the mainframe and any request for help put on hold in favor of 'more pressing matters'. When Riza recieved order to pack up and return to Central, both she and Mustang argued with higher authority till blue-in-the-face, to no avail, insisting that this wasn't over. But my stalker had been captured and that served as good enough reason for Mustang's boss -Secretary of Defense, King Bradley- to send Riza back to her place in Central, attached at Roy Mustang's hip. He saw no reason to keep Riza away from her duties while the military focused on finding the people who had been pulling Archer's strings, since they had apprehended their enforcer. It was New Year's Eve, and she was set to leave the next morning.

Nobody living in New York ever went near Times Square if they could help it, especially on New Year's Eve. Riza and I opted for a bottle of wine and some cheese at home instead.

"He's alright, incase you were wondering." She said, her sharp eyes gleamed at me knowingly over the rim of her wine glass. "You haven't asked about him in days. It seems like you've been just as careful not to mention him, as not to ask about him." I swallowed my mouthful of fermented grape juice forcefully and feigned disinterest.

"I'm indifferent. He was a house guest and a friendly acquaintance. I'm glad to hear he's well, but I don't spend every waking hour wondering about him." Her knowing gaze held on me and her eyebrow shifting, raising slowly as her chin shifted toward her chest. Damn it.

"You're angry at him for leaving. You're hurting." I blinked back at her in utter stupor.

"How do you do it? Read people like that?"

She smiled and sipped her wine again. "I've gotten plenty of practice over the years. Being a sniper gives you a unique vantage point. You secretly shadow people through a scope from hundreds of yards away and interpret their every move, down to the smallest nuance, waiting for your moment to strike. Before you know it, it becomes a part of you. You can't separate it from the rest of your life. You begin to understand the people around you better than they know themselves, because you've read the behavior they don't even realize they emit ."

I savored the sharpness of cheddar as she added, "Plus, watching Roy read people over the years has been extremely useful. I've got him totally figured out and it drives him crazy." She laughed for a moment then grew quiet again.

"You love Edward. I can tell." She completely immobilized me. "I can see how it could happen easily, what with his charm and that pretty face. He's always prioritized the happiness of others above his own. Not to mention that he's entirely self-loathing. It's enough to inspire any girl to want to be his savior." She turned to me and her eyes became grave. "Don't try to be that girl, Winry. You have no idea what you're up against. Loving a State Alchemist is a hard enough life without the problems Ed is dealing with. I know about what Kimblee said to you at the fund raiser. Its true, Roy didn't want Edward here to begin with. He wanted him watching on the outside, but he never wanted the two of you to cross paths. You're too much alike. We knew he would identify with you better than anyone."

"Isn't that all the more reason why we should be together?" I pressed. Her expression saddened.

"If it were anyone else, yes. But not Ed. He's been fighting demons you couldn't comprehend. He's been through things your imagination couldn't conjure if you tried. We all love Edward, we're astounded by what he's made of himself. He's a good person who deserves all the happiness in the world, but he's not ready for something like this and neither are you." My heart was crumbling my chest.

"It kills me saying it Winry, because we care about you and Ed so much. But you two were never supposed to meet. Edward can't get so close to anyone because it's far too dangerous. He did the right thing by leaving, you need to trust me and let him go."

* * *

I was awoken in the middle of the night by festivities of a city ringing in a new year, along with the buzzing of my cell phone as it vibrated across my nightstand. I didn't give myself proper time to rejoin the waking world before I slurred out a greeting and was immediatly shot back into full conciousness.

"Keep quiet. If Riza hears you talking to me I'll be in deep shit." My heart nearly stopped. I knew that voice anywhere. That voice was knee-deep in shit. I sat up and focused on breathing, reducing my boiling blood to a simmer.

"You've got some nerve calling me now. It's been two weeks."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Really. Something's come up that I have to take care of and I had no choice. I can't talk about it, I was just calling to see if you're okay." I twisted my fingers in the blankets in effort to stop myself from yelling at him, and decided to change the subject.

"You forgot your blanket here." I murmured, smoothing my hand over the lush brown fur.

"I'll make sure I get it."

"Why do you have this gaudy thing anyway?" I could almost hear him grinning on the other end of the line.

"It's a trophy." My stomach turned.

"So it's real?" I gulped.

"Before you call PETA on me, it wasn't sport. It was survival. I got separated from my group and was lost with a dead phone and only one bullet left. I was alone, and the bear was hungry." A beat of silence passed, in which I once again decided to change the subject.

"Things have quieted down here. Archer confessed to everything so Riza's leaving tomorrow."

"..._What?_" I was stunned by his ignorance. It wasn't like Elric to be uninformed.

"So I guess no one told you then." I said.

"No. No one said a thing." The line went quiet. I could swear I was able to hear the spinning turbines of his brain in rapid contemplation. "What will you do then?" He asked.

I shrugged in the darkness, "It'll just be me and my books again. I'll go back to the way things were." I couldn't stop my voice from wavering. Muffled voices in the backround sounded over the line, and Ed muttered something away from the phone.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go. Delete this call from your recent list and lose this number." I found myself nodding even though I knew he couldn't see. He muttered something else to whoever was with him before his voice came back into clarity again.

"Listen to me, you're not alone. You're never alone. Even if I'm not there, I'm watching after you. Remember that."

The line clicked off. I pulled my knees up and wept.

* * *

A/N: I felt like a jerk for leaving you all with the two shortest chapters of the entire story just before my 10 day absense. I decided to give you chapter 14 to make up for it. See you in 10 days, and thank you all again for your reviews.


	15. Chapter 15

How blessed is the last lights before the dark.  
That last, rebellious and triumphant spark,  
before it too becomes the ash of night.

-Tyler Knott Gregson

* * *

The silence of my apartment was crushing me. It was cold, stagnant nothingness. What was once my cozy sanctuary now felt more like an isolated museum dedicated to the lonliness I'd cultivated for myself. Tv was worthless. Books had lost their ability to capture me quickly. Sleep curled her fingers around me every night, luring me into a false sense of security, and I would wake shaking. Sleep soon became something I approached with trepidation, for when my mind surrendered to the soft waves of slumber, my dreams were consumed by the scent of earthy musk; crisp and clean like the early mornings of autumn. The chilly air skimming across my skin, smooth and cold like metal. The sunlight pouring it's rays through the multi-color trees, basking over me with it's heavenly halo. Every night I dreamed of gold.

I could feel myself stretching thin. It was becoming harder for me to portray happiness during phone conversations with my Grandmother. The guilt began to eat at me. She loved me so much, and didn't understand why I didn't visit as much as I used to. Lying to her was awful, but she couldn't know what was happening. I wanted her to focus on her mechanics business and the friends and customers she saw daily. I wanted her to be happy and worry-free. She was old and slow-moving, I couldn't allow her to become prey for my enemies. Archer's leaders were still out there and I wouldn't dare risk my Granny's safety. My exhausted, anxious mind recalled the words of warning that Riza left me with.

"Don't go outside if you can help it." She said. "We have people watching outside around the clock, but we're not sure how long we'll be able to keep this up without being discovered by higher-ups. We'll find them soon. Having a bunch of State Alchemists on our side is definitely helping. And keep your doors and windows locked at all times."

I stopped her on her way out the door with final question.

"Why are they called Alchemists? They're not scientists, they're soldiers." She looked back at me her usual sharp eyes.

"They alter the current state. Re-arrange the status quo. They're the fixers, the do-ers, the fool-proof plan. Alchemists are responsible for great change in the world. That's where the title comes from."

Being alone again gave me all the time in the world to mull over her words. There was no doubt that Edward had changed things. Before him I never questioned the life I'd been living. A small part of me was curious to know a different life, but it was so much easier to remind myself that the world was full of scary people who didn't understand me, and that I was safer here for now. Ed changed all of that. He was everything I didn't know I secretly wished to be. Confident and powerful, graceful and seasoned, sexy and intimidating. He'd awakened yearnings within me that I'd chocked up to being the stuff of fairytales, and I found myself growing exponentially angry along with my exhaustion. Riza was right. I'd fallen for someone I could never have, and missing him terribly every day would never become bearable if I couldn't find a way to stop dreaming of golden eyes every night.

* * *

Before I knew it I was hardly sleeping at all. I would catch cat naps during the day, and stumble to bed that night still exhausted, only to be shocked awake in the night by the image of golden eyes and the feeling of him in the room. But everytime I sat up, nothing. I'd search my apartment, my heart fluttering wildly with excitement, only to be crushed under the weight of dissapointment, then go crawling back to bed humiliated. Consistant betrayal by my own subconsious became torturous. The woman I saw in the mirror was no woman at all; a devastated, hopeless girl who couldn't manage to stand on her own. A pathetic sap who had once again allowed a man to force her emotions. I decided that if I ever saw Edward Elric again, I'd punch him square in the nose.

I was again roused in the middle of the night by the short buzz of my phone on the night stand. A text message from an number listing as all zeros.

*Are you alright?*

I knew it could only be one person, and my blood boiled. How DARE he put me through this. How dare he toy with me like that; making me feel so special and so cared for. So valued. So LOVED. And then to turn around and blame me for tempting him? To run away after he said he wouldn't. After he got what he wanted. After he got the only thing every guy ever wanted. Sex with 'the perfect woman'. My phone buzzed again with another message.

*Please tell me you're okay.*

I looked around the darkness of my room, my heartrate increasing as my lonliness closed in on me in a new way. I wasn't just lonely. I was vulnerable. I was defenseless. I was alone.

I was all alone.

* * *

The next night I sat at the bay window of my livingroom, awake yet again. I gazed down on the city streets with their light dusting of fresh snow and clutched my copy of Pride and Prejudice, one of my favorites, against my chest with a sigh. Reading was finally becoming a comfort to me again on those cold, dark nights. My eyelids grew heavy and I allowed my forehead to rest against the chilled glass of the window as sleep crept over me.

There was scratching. Soft scraping of metal against metal. Quiet clinking, tapping, from across the room. It seemed outside, yet inside. Far away, yet very close. My REM-deprived mind wouldn't ponder it anylonger and I began to slip back into blissful slumber.

Until the deadbolt rolled over. My eyes flew open, I was sure it was just another vivid dream. I stared into the dark and my ears strained against the silence, listening for the tiniest of sounds. Nothing. It was my awful mind playing tricks on me yet again. I rose from my spot in the window and turned to head to my bed, leaving my book behind me, when the soft scraping continued. I froze on the spot. Someone was here. The full moon outside cast its white, glowing beams in through the windows; offering serene ambiance to my sheer terror. The scraping continued. Clinking and tapping again, when I realized what it was. My front door handle was gently rotating back and forth, twisting one way before halting and reversing. Someone was picking my lock, attempting to break in.

My heart slammed wildly and my brain jumped into overdrive, thinking of what to do next. My phone. I needed my phone. But I couldn't remember where I'd left it and I couldn't see in the dark to find it. I didn't want to go running around because the intruder would hear my footfalls, and I couldn't turn the lights on and give myself away. I kept watching petrified as the knob continued to fidget. Deciding to make a break for it, I quickly crept my way back to my bedroom as light-footed as I could manage against squeaky old wood floors, and I shut the door and locked it. Praying this would buy me another minute or two, I scrambled to the window and threw it open, exhaling as the cold air shocked my skin. I turned back for a moment to grab my big, button-up sweater from the bed and found my cell under it. I heard the front door open, and slam shut a second later.

I had to get out. I knew I had to climb down my icy fire escape in my tshirt and bare feet. I cursed myself for wearing a tshirt that barely covered my ass to bed instead of actual pajamas like a normal person. My heart hammered in fear and I threw on the sweater and stashed the phone in my pocket quickly before swinging a leg out my window an onto the fire escape. I had a plan to run to the parking garage when I realized my keys were in the living room, sitting on the bench of the bay window. I couldn't go running through Manhattan barefoot in the snow at 2 am without a plan, a place to go, or pants for that matter.

'_FUCK_.' I crept back through the window and leaned my ear against my bedroom door, pushing away the frantic thumping of my heart to listen for a sound from the living room. Sure enough, the footfalls fell away from my door, sounding like they were heading to the guest suite. I said a little prayer, unlocked my door and slowly cracked it open just enough to slip through. My eyes scanned the darkness and I saw no one. It was now or never.

_'Just grab the keys'_ I coached myself. _'Even if you make noise running away, just grab the little shits and sprint for the fire escape.'_ My eyes locked on my target, gleaming enticingly in the moonlight. I was 10 feet away... 5 feet... right there...

"Winry?"

I shrieked and whipped around, gasping at the sight of unmistakable golden eyes. He stepped into the light, and there he was. He was really there standing in front of me again, no mind tricks. His eyes widened a fraction, he looked surprised. Then relieved. Like he wasn't sure I would be there. Suddenly I was in his arms, his fingers buried in my hair, cradling my head to the curve of his neck. He pulled me closer and breathed me in. My petrified, furious heart melted instantly, and I couldn't stop my arms from snaking around him to clutch the soft leather of his dark brown jacket, and I let myself fold into his warmth. His wonderful smell invaded my senses; my anger and fear slipped away, making room for exhaustion and my eyes slid shut as I let him hold me. It was only then, in the silence of the night that I realized how heavy he was breathing. How every exhale was an elated release of oxygen, how his pounding heart finally slowed in his chest. He coaxed me to face him and a warm thumb stroked my cheekbone; his eyes dancing across my face in marveled astonishment. He murmured softly, utterly bemused.

"You're alive."

* * *

A/N: You're all troopers. It killed me not being able to update for so long, I greatly appreciate you all for hanging in there. Your reviews I received while away were the sweetest treat during my trip, and to answer the question that one reviewer left for me: no, I am in fact not a writer and this is my very first fanfiction. I can't begin to express my joy at receiving such a warm compliment. Thank you all so very much for reading and for your kind words. I eagerly await any future reviews from you all, as well as any other readers you think would enjoy this story. Someone recently asked me if I would mind them recommending my story to others, this of course was incredibly exciting to hear, for i'm thrilled to share this story with anyone willing to read it. Thanks again, more soon.


	16. Chapter 16

I never knew much about people until I took one apart...  
Just to see how it worked.

-unknown

* * *

It was so hard to be mad at him. Any rush of anger swelling toward the surface was immediately pushed down by his hushed voice hovering over me. The brightly burning flame of resentment effectively snuffed out by his solid arms holding me; clutching me to him. Like he was afraid. Like he thought he wouldn't find me here. Like he cared.

_'Yea, like he cared alright.'_

I regained my wits and pushed out of his grasp, instantly feeling colder.

"What are you doing here? Why did you break in? If you wanted your stupid bear skin so bad I would've just brought it to Central." I'd caught him off gaurd and he flashed utter confusion; I could see him quickly trying to assemble a response in his mind and submit it to himself for consideration instead of just blurting out angrily. Good for him. I'd never had the talent for stopping 'word vomit'. He finally clicked something together that left me equally stupefied and grasping for enlightenment.

"You think I came back because of that? I thought the worst had happened!"

I gaped at him in total perplexity and he asked,

"You haven't answered my calls or texts. I know you're mad at me, but what the hell?" His eyes didn't look angry. He wasn't even yelling really. More than anything he seemed frustrated, exhausted, exasperated. He was different. I had mentally and emotionally prepared myself for all out war with him if I were ever to see his face again, but now he was in front of me and I was completely disarmed.

"What do you mean you thought the worst had happened?" He reeled back in wary disbelief.

"You mean you had no idea. Not a clue?"

"What are you babbling about Ed?!" I was beyond aggitated. He pulled out his phone and stepped to me, pushing it at me angrily.

"I came back because of this!" He hissed. "What the fuck is this, Winry?"

He presented me with an image of me in bed, fast asleep. Someone else had taken it. My eyes shot up to his.

"Scroll through." He said. I swiped over once, twice, again and again and again until the final image bounced back in retaliation. They were all pictures of me asleep. Different angles, and judging from my varied attire, different nights. I looked up at him in horror. The reoccuring dreams I'd had where it felt like Edward was there were really my subconsious picking up on someone standing in my bedroom. Someone in the shadows, watching me. The final image was sent with a text:

*She's so beautiful when her body lies motionless.*

My heart fell to my feet and nausea swept through me. I handed back the phone in disgust and he slipped it in his jacket.

"That last image was sent to me three times, over the span of three hours. He took it from a different angle each time but you hadn't moved an inch. I didn't know if he took them all at once and sent them to me seperately or if they were happening in real time. I thought you were dead."

"So you came back to see for yourself? Why didn't you just call someone?"

"I called _you_, remember? On New Years Eve I called after I got the first picture to see if you were okay. You sounded fine on the phone so I didn't say anything to you, there was no point in upsetting you at the time. I just made Riza aware." My mind rushed back the the night when I was awoken by his phone call. The way he sounded at the end of it; desperately imploring me to know that I wasn't alone. That he was watching over me. Then I realized why Riza and Mustang spent all New Year's Day on the phone hollering at different officials, fighting against her orders to leave me. They knew about this. Everyone knew except me.

"So everyone on the fucking planet knows someone's been breaking in here but no one told me?! You all just LEFT me here?!" I said. I was suddenly feeling very exposed from dealing with my emotions over Edward, finding out that someone was still fucking around with me, and standing in my livingroom yelling in my big sweater and underwear. I stormed to my room in search of my silk robe to cover up with as Elric followed close behind, shedding his jacket.

"It's not like that. None of us wanted to leave you here but its so complicated. We couldn't tell you anything, it would only risk putting you in more danger." I wasn't buying it. "I swear to you I didn't want to leave. I had to Winry. I had to keep you safe." This stopped me.

"Keeping me safe huh?" I challenged sarcastically, looking back at him over my shoulder. I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine ala the night he left me high and dry in the shower, and I stepped into the moonlight letting my sweater fall to the floor before pulling my tshirt over my head. He had been behind me across the room going on about how he was under orders and couldn't tell me anything because it would risk my safety when his words slowed then fell away from him mid sentance. I could feel his gaze pouring over me then drinking me in as I stood there in my black lace unmentionables, letting the moon wash its pale white beams over me. I took my sweet time searching for my silk robe before finally slipping it over me and closing it. The jerk deserved that.

"Don't do that." He said. I turned back to face him. "Do what?"

"Don't play dumb, you're not gonna weaponize sex against me, Rockbell." This rocketed me off into the great galaxy of pissed-offness.

"You wanna talk about using sex as a weapon?! You've got no right to stand there and ask for my understanding. You don't deserve anything from me because you already got what you wanted. You did the same thing to me that every guy has ever done and ever wanted to do, and I'm not going to be the victim anymore. Not to the military, not to my stalker, and especially not to you. You're all just protecting your jobs. Don't stand there acting like you give a shit about me. You used me for my body! You fucked me and you LEFT!" I stormed past him heading toward the front door when he grabbed my wrist and yanked me back. He radiated anger.

"My heart stopped!" He bellowed, grasping my shoulders. "I got that text, and my heart stopped. I dropped everything, I sacrificed the mission to get back to you. When Mustang finds out that I'm here he'll destroy me, but I don't care. I _never _would have left if it were up to me. Something happened and I had to go to Finland." His expression was raw, seeing him up close again let me take in the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, three-day scruff on his jaw, his dishelved hair. His long-sleeve black shirt was wrinkled and pushed to his elbows, the wide neckline hanging looser than usual revealing the ragged edge of metal plating bolted roughly into his defined clavacle. How could someone look like hell and still be mouth watering?

"I had to leave Winry," He continued. "I didn't want to, I was forced to. Someone delivered a note to Mustang's door the night we slept together saying that if any State Alchemists were here at daybreak they'd send a firebomb through the window. So Riza came to replace me. I had no time to explain and I had to hide the evidence of what we did that night before Riza showed up. I would NEVER use you." I took in his story quietly. His words savored so strongly of concern; his passionate conviction making it difficult for me to not believe him. The way he looked at me made it impossible for me to be mad at him. He was clearly beyond exhausted, yet putting up such a strong fight against my insecurities. So focused on protecting me not only from the dangers outside, but from the damaging falsehoods my tortured mind was entertaining. I shouldn't have accused him of not caring. He had already showed me in so many ways that he did.

I sighed, lowering my defense. "You look...awful. Are you alright?" I asked. He calmly pulled me into his arms again and ran his fingers through my hair.

"I am now."

* * *

I woke up again at nearly 5 am to soft murmuring in the living room. I had made Ed something to eat earlier and when finished he passed out cold on the couch before the empty dish touched the sink. I stood for a moment before heading to bed, watching him sleep and taking in how relaxed he looked in that moment. More relaxed than I had ever known him to be. The Edward I had known was like a wolf, in a constant state of sharp awareness. But this man was sprawled out lazily, softly snoring with his hand scratching his stomach, like a hibernating bear. Slipping out of bed I decided to investigate the soft murmurs and entered the dark livingroom. The shifted moonlight now poured over one end of the couch, illuminating Edward in an etherial glow far different from the gleam he emitted in every day life. My quiet moment of solitude with him was cut short by his brow furrowing and his beautiful face screwing up in discomfort. His hands clenched, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and digging into the couch cushions. I crept towards him slowly and watched as his head started shifting back and forth, his murmurs increasing in volume accompanied by soft groans and grunts. He was having a nightmare. I pulled my silk robe across me tighter as I continued to watch, wrestling with the decision to wake him or let it pass. A sheen of sweat glimmered across his brow as he continued to thrash, his hair releasing wildly from it's restraint. I tiptoed even closer until I was standing over him, taking in his hard panting and the small choked sob that slipped from him. I reached out a hand towards his cheek to comfort him when he groaned,

"What've you done?" I pulled my hand back quickly. He wasn't awake, his speech was slurred. He was quickly becoming more and more upset with every minute that ticked by. His head thrashed around and his body began to twist and contort in effort to relieve his discomfort. I reached out my hand again as his muttering became louder and more urgent.

"What've you done?" He repeated. My hand soothed across his cheek and he stilled immediately, his whole body visibly relaxing. His face crumbled sadly and he sighed out.

"...I'm a monster now. I'm a monster."

It happened in the time span of less than a second. I don't even remember the descent. One moment I was standing over him stroking his cheek and before I knew it, I'd been slammed into the floor with enough force to knock the wind from me. Edward was kneeling over me, his eyes still squeezed shut and jaw clenched; teeth bared ferociously. Strong, cold fingers of metal were vice gripped around my throat, and fire roared in my chest at the lack of oxygen.

"What the hell have you done to me?!" He screamed at me, his eyes never opening, his grip only tightening. I clawed pathetically at his mechanical digits in desperate attempt to free myself, to no avail, and every passing second drained me further of my energy. I tried kicking my legs out but he was kneeling on top of them.

"You turned me into a monster." He half sobbed, before drawing in a shakey breath and screaming. "You fucking bastard, I'M A MONSTER!"

Tears sprang to my eyes and my throat continued to burn as it strained against his hand, begging for air. Fear hammered in my heart. This was it. This was why I should have been afraid of Edward Elric. My hands began to fumble for him, pulling his shirt, scratching his distraught face, anything to stop him. But my energy was waning, my world becoming darker, and as my hand swung out over the large ottoman it connected with something cold and hard. A wrench. I had discovered one of my grandmother's wrenches in the guest closet days ago and left it on the ottoman as a reminder to bring it to her. With my little remaining energy circling the drain, I gathered every ounce of effort I could as I grasped the wrench and swung.

It made a sickening thud as it collided with Edward's temple. Suddenly his hands were gone and my airway was free, but my first draw of breath was fire ripping through me and I hacked uncontrollably. Ed lay on the floor spitting vicous curses and holding his head, a thin line of blood trickling down to drip on the rug. I clumsily scooted back from him, clutching my weapon and coughing horribly as the tears ran free. My unladylike coughing soon conjoined with my sobs of fear and anguish. I had to get away.

Ed began to stir from his spot on the floor, groaning again from the pain of being bashed over the head with iron. My heart lept in my chest at the thought of his attack continuing, until his eyes fluttered open. Soft golden orbs searched the dark, hazy and unfocused, until settling on me. He remained there, on hands and knees, regarding me with utter confusion. I could see the questions flitting behind his eyes. Why was I crying? Why was I coughing? Why was I holding a bloodied wrench? Why did I look terrified?

"Winry?" He rasped softly, sitting back on his heels. He finally snapped into the waking world because his usual alert glare was back. "Win, what happened? What's wrong?"

I tried to sob out a response, but no sound came out. I couldn't speak. The muscles of my throat were so weak I couldn't make even the smallest of sounds. Only huffs of air came out when I realized this and continued to sob. It was so much worse than what I had experienced as a child. I had never been more terrified of anyone or anything in my life. Ed moved to come closer to me, and I pushed myself back frantically, until my back hit the wall. I continued to cough, cough, and cough, shaking my head silently begging him to stay back.

"Winry talk to me, what's-" He stopped. The pieces finally all clicked together. His eyes fell to my throat, taking in flesh now mottled with the yellows and greens of fresh bruising. The wrench smeared with blood and his own blood streaming down from his temple. The horror etched across me. The tears, the coughs and sobs that wracked my body. The way I was nearly paralyzed with fear. His face paled and his eyed widened in horror.

"Oh my God... Winry, I didn't -I didn't mean- I would never..." He was panicking, his hands flew into his loose, dishelved hair in shock. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Winry. I swear to God I can explain, please let me explain. Please Winry you're hurt, let me help you." he begged frantically. I couldn't get near him. I had to get away. I shook my head and could feel myself slipping into a panic attack. I stumbled to my feet and grabbed my keys, dashing away from him as he tried to follow after me.

"Winry PLEASE don't run, I'm begging you! Just let me explain, I didn't know it was you!"

I swung the wrench again and made contact near the same spot, sending him to the floor again. He didn't move this time. A new fear shot through me. I'd seriously hurt him, and I realized just how fucked up it was that I still cared. I dropped the wrench and ran.

* * *

My tears and coughing had finally subsided, but my fear pushed on; driving through my heart like an ice pick. I burst through the lobby door and ran out onto the city street, immediately regretting my decision to forgo shoes or proper clothes. I knew Ed was no fool, and had probably noticed that I'd moved my car three days earlier to the small deli parking lot sitting behind my building, to have it close by for emergencies. He hadn't followed me out, and if he woke up my time to escape would be limited. I dashed quickly down the alley running along the building's side and emerged in the small lot in the back, when I heard Ed's voice calling behind me. I turned to find him standing on my apartment building's roof with a sniper rifle at his side, blood and shame laced over his features. My heart froze over with terror. He was going to shoot me. I turned and ran for my car, reaching the driver's side door as he called out,

"It's not safe out there Win! Please come back and I swear I'll explain everything. I'll tell you everything about me and my fucked up problems, just please come inside! You're gonna get frost bite out here. You've barely got any clothes on." I paused at my car, looking at him warily. The only thing that stopped me was the look on his face. He was just as scared as I was.

"For the love of God Winry _PLEASE_ come back inside. I'll leave if that's what you want. I'll stay out here if that's what it takes. But it's not safe for you to be outside right now. I'm begging you to go inside. I'm so sorry Winry, I had no idea it was you. I'm dying inside knowing that I did that to you. I'll never forgive myself!" His voice cracked. "Please Winry, go inside where its safe. I'll stay here and call Mustang. You never have to see me again, I swear." The sound of an approaching car motored in the back ground as I considered Ed's request. Ed's eyes flickered beyond me, and his brow furrowed as he watched an unmarked, white van roar into the lot and screech to a halt a few yards from me. Ed's face suddenly changed and he shouldered his rifle, leveling it at the van.

"Get in your car Winry!" He ordered frantically, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the van which now idled near me. The van's sliding door opened and two men in dark clothes got out and began walking toward me. My mind raced to make a decision between driving away alone and defenseless without a plan, and be chased by the van, or to run back to the apartment with the man who had just nearly killed me. I could no longer tell if it was fear that had me frozen in place, or the lack of feeling in my frigid feet. Just as one of the men reached for me a shot rang out and he dropped to the ground in front of me, eyes wide and unseeing. His fellow henchmen looked around frantically to figure out where the shot came from, when another was sent to the ground motionless with a new hole in his chest.

"RUN WINRY! Drive away NOW!" He screamed from his spot on the roof. His fearful yelling snapped me into action and I backed away quickly to open my car door, but time screetched to a halt when my head was yanked back by my hair and sharp, cold metal was pressed into my neck.

"Which is quicker, Fullmetal? My blade or your bullet?" Rang the smooth and deadly voice of Solf J. Kimblee. I could feel us becoming surrounded by more of Kimblee's henchmen, and they all brandished guns in Ed's direction.

"Consider carefully now. You can let the woman come with me, and you'll both live to fight another day. Or you can challenge all ten of me now, and see how that works out for you." From the corner of my eye I could make out the red sight of Ed's rifle holding steady on Kimblee's forehead, mere inches from my own.

"I've taken down far greater numbers with my hands alone, and you know that. You told Winry to be afraid of me, you should take your own advice!" Ed threatened menacingly. Kimblee threw his head back in laughter.

"Right you are, Elric! I have seen you slaughter dozens of people in seconds like it was nothing. Question is, do you want _her _to see that?"

"She's already seen the worst of me. Now get your hands off her before I come down there and give you a reason to fear me!" The blade pressed harder against me, and I felt warm wetness stream down my neck.

"Oh I sincerely doubt that she's seen the _worst _of you. If you were on the ground then we'd have something to talk about, Fullmetal! But I'm down here and you're up there, and we both know I'll cut her down before you can get here. You may be uncommonly fast, but you're no God. I like making deals and I love watching you squirm, so I have a proposition for you. You can give me a head start, and I swear on my title as a State Alchemist that your Winry will not be harmed. Or, I can shoot you..."

Ten guns ratcheted and took aim at Edward as Kimblee continued,

"...and I'll slit her throat and, well I guess we'll all just be done here!" Ed's sharp eyes never faltered, forever focused on his aim on Kimblee.

"Oh, and you can get your fucking laser sight off my head now. If you shoot me, they'll shoot her. Look, I'm tired of chatting about this. I'm not running this show, I'm following orders and someone is expecting us so we really must be going now." A wet rag came into my sight and I tried to leap back from it with no luck. The cloth covered my mouth and nose, and after a few moments of struggling I couldn't hold my breath any longer. I inhaled the stench of chloriform, and instantly my vision swam. Sight, smell, taste and touch fell away from me, and the last thing I recalled was Edward's voice, screaming my name over the gun fire.

* * *

A/N: Theres a lot of important information packed into this chapter and the next few. It may get a little confusing at times and warrant a second reading or a revisit to a previous chapter if need be, but hang in there because I promise it'll be worth your valued attention. Some questions will be answered in the near future, and others a little later. As usual, more soon.


	17. Chapter 17

Tell the wolves I'm home.

-unknown

* * *

My mind went live to silence. Harsh cold against my skin, I was on my side laying on concrete. I heard footsteps approaching me, and mustered what little strength I had to open my tired eyes and peer into the darkness. Suddenly a single incandescent bulb jutting out from a socket in a nearby wall beamed to low-wattage life; it's understated brilliance stretching far up the wall from which it was mounted before being devoured by the night. Standing on the edge of the shadows was a tall and solid man with nearly black hair. He looked to be in his fifties, and the personification of strength and discipline. When I saw his eye patch, I realized that I knew this man to be Secretary of Defense King Bradley, Brigadier General Mustang's commanding officer.

"You're awake. I was wondering when you'd finally come to. I knew it would be a bit, since we've been sedating you, but two days is a long time."

I was desperately hungry, dehydrated beyond belief, and too weak to move almost at all. I fidgeted slightly and found my wrists were bound behind me. My legs were bound at the ankles, as if it would have mattered, I didn't have the strength to budge them even an inch.

"Please help me." I croaked softly, my throat raged from the dryness. I shook uncontrollably from the cold and being clad in only my undergarments and silky house robe, now filthy.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Miss Rockbell. You see, you've served a great purpose to the military all these years, but we needed one last thing from you. By the time we're finished here you'll be dead, and Fullmetal will be too distraught to stop my plans. It was too easy really, orchistrating everything. Putting you both in place and then yanking him to and fro whenever I needed: you've both been perfect pawns. Kimblee's been watching you for weeks. He's seen EVERYTHING. Mustang's team swept your apartment, but they didn't find the cameras we planted the night the body was hung in your living room."

"We disguised them as ordinary nails," He said. "Driven into the wall and painted over, able to read through as though they were completely exposed, to anyone else it would seem like an ordinary nail pop. You might have noticed them, in the living room... the bedroom... the bathroom..."

My stomach turned.

"My specialist N.V. made them. He also made the body and the eye. He's brilliant, really. He's a master in fabrication. He can make anything, he even makes prosthetic cowls; full masks that can completely change ones appearance. He changes his all the time just for practice, so much in fact that I've forgotton what his true form looks like."

I couldn't tell if my nausea was brought on by my malnourished state, or the way he smiled so genuinely when talking about the inner workings of my torment.

"I have another accomplice, a greedy son of a bitch. He's so damn obsessed with getting his. He wants everything. Sex, power, money, invincibility. He and I are two sides of the same coin really. I want some of those things too, and we'll be getting them and getting rid of Edward Elric with help from you. See, I'm preparing to build an army. The most powerful army the world has ever seen. Your perfect blood combined with Edward's can help me do that."

My whole body hurt, my head pounded from trying to wrap my mind around the information. My eyes slid down my body and I found myself speckled with drops of blood. My arms were covered in fresh scabs and bruises at the elbows, and I suspected from the sensitivity, the wrists as well. They had been taking my blood.

"Edward, as you've noticed, is not like other men. He's almost half machine. He's too strong, too fast, and too intelligent to be considered average. No enemy who's ever dared to challenge him lived to tell the tale. This is why I could never attack him directly. I knew we'd never win. I'm an excellent fight for a man of my years, but I'm also smart enough to know that you sometimes must retreat if you ever hope to gain the upper hand."

He suddenly kneeled in front of my and grabbed a fistfull of my hair, pulling roughly as I cried out.

"When I realized how similar you two were, I knew he'd latch on if you spent enough time together. So I staged everything. The note on your car, the eyeball, the voicemail. I sent the threatening letters to Mustang, and I ordered Elric back from Moscow to watch over you despite Mustang's protests. I needed him to get close to you. I also staged the phone call about 'the promised land' and sent the message threatening to fire bomb your apartment so he would leave, just for the opportunity to turn the knife some more when I sent him the pictures Kimblee took of you while you were sleeping. I knew my efforts would be rewarded with his obsession with you, its impossible for him to not relate to you. You're both government experiments! The only difference being while you're the 'Control', complete physical perfection inside and out, he's a malformed abomination. A mentally short-circuting experimental failure. A good assasin should be largely apathetic, but Elric is emotional, so I dangled you in front of him like steak to a starving dog in hopes to ignite a reaction, and he didn't disappoint. The key to bringing down the Fullmetal Alchemist isn't hand-to-hand combat or a battle of weaponry. It's not physical. It's mental. It's emotional. It's YOU."

He shoved me away and stood, turning to walk away from me towards a metal table under the single light. He picked up a syringe full of a vermilion substance to show me.

"This is a test sample of the blood we've synthesized from Elric's. Obtaining his blood was simple, I just pulled some from the lab during his last automail modification. He bleeds quite a bit during those procedures." He said with a sick smile. It was obvious that seeing Edward suffer was how Bradley got his kicks. He disappeared into the shadows and reappeared a moment later with Kimblee at his side. I glared at him furiously, though I knew it wouldn't come across through my exhausted state.

"We're currently synthesizing some of your blood and preparing it to be combined with his." Kimblee added. "The result being a genetic code that's inhumanly strong, fast, intelligent, and wired for combat like him, with the pure health, perfect physical proportions, and accelerated healing from you. Not only are you helping us bring down Elric, but you're also helping us create unstoppable humans. People who will have automail just like him. Soldiers that we'll craft into killing machines. The U.S. military will be a truly unstoppable force."

I was back and forth between sweltering and freezing to death. My body shook from the cold yet sweat dripped down my brow, frigid concrete being both my torture and my relief. My abused mind began to wonder. If it had really been two days, where was Ed? Was he even coming for me? Nauseating dread filled me when I realized that he probably had no idea where I was. I was surprised to find tears welling; I figured I'd been dehydrated beyond the ability to cry.

"Please don't do this." I cried softly. Bradley walked to stand over me again, as dozens of his soldiers flanked him from the shadows, armed with heavy artillery.

"There's nothing that can stop us now. And once we've killed you, Edward Elric will no longer have the will to live and taking him down will be simple. He's fought tirelessly for the lives of others, but he despises his own. He's been ready to die for years, why do you think he'd take such a dangerous job at only 14 years old? He wants to be put out of his misery, only problem is his manufactured genetic code. He's hard wired for survival." He said.

I stared blankly, unable to make heads or tails of what I was hearing. Bradley must've sensed my confusion, because he grinned wickedly and said,

"You don't know about him, do you? Since you're about to die, I'll let you in on a little secret. See, I've tried to form this army once before, but one by one every test subject died. No one could withstand the limb removal and following automail surgery. Their memories were wiped, then replaced with the knowledge of how to be the perfect soldier. The perfect assasin. But none of them could handle it, they either died during surgery or went mad and killed themselves after the mental procedure. Everyone except Edward Elric."

_'NO...'_ My eyes squeezed shut and the tears spilled, my heart crying for Ed's broken soul. Bradley wiped a tear from my cheek, then back handed me hard. I tasted blood.

"That bastard ruined EVERYTHING! A fucking kid broke my entire system! The scientist in charge of him fucked up, implanting our combat technology in Elric's brain _before _erasing all memory of his former life. He woke up half way through the mind wipe, lost it and slaughtered my entire team. When we inject our new synthesized Perfect Blood into humans, we believe they'll finally be able to withstand the limb removal and automail replacement surgery. I'll finally have my unstoppable army."

I gaped at him in wide-eyed horror. King Bradley had always been considered a brave and honorable man, earning the respect of his soldiers for many years. I was convinced there was no way Mustang could have known he was actually a confirmed psychopath.

"Instead of having him executed, I allowed Edward to become a State Alchemist at the incessant pleading of Roy Mustang, and put his newfound 'talents' to good use against our enemies. In a sense, he wound up doing exactly what I'd wanted from the start. But I didn't account for him spending the next 16 years digging for answers about his former life and nearly exposing my involvement. I can't have him getting in the way this time." He picked up a box and handed it off to a soldier.

"Drain her."

* * *

My heart pounded and I let out a choked sob. This was it. The soldier knelt before me and poised the needle at the surface of my bruised skin, when there was a loud shatter. The empty syringe had burst, and blood exploded from a hole in his hand. He screamed, and the single lightbulb shattered, shrouding us in darkness. Multiple guns ratcheted, ready to fire at an unseen target. The moon's brightness poured in from skylights high above us, and cast its white glow over the 20 some-odd men surrounding me. I could barely see anything in the blackness, and keeping my eyes open had become a trying challenge.

"It seems we have a visitor." Bradley said. "And if it's who I think it is, then it's safe to say he's brought his rag-tag group of soldiers with him!" I felt my head suddenly yanked back harshly by my hair yet again, pain shooting through my scalp and my neck twisting awkwardly. Bradley whispered in my ear,

"And with any luck, one particular State Alchemist."

He slammed my head into the concrete and everything went black again.

My head swam to the sounds of gunfire and screams being cut off in a throaty, gutteral sputtering. I heard guns and bodies dropping to the floor, and an explosion rocked the room, followed by Bradley's raging screams of protest. Something about all his work being gone forever. The was brightness coming through my eyelids; sudden heat scorching my frigid skin from a distance, and I tried to peer my eyes open but was foiled by my splitting head ache.

"I've spent years watching you live in your misery, all leading to this moment right now. I took everything from you Fullmetal! I took the memories of a life you'll never know, a family you'll never know. You destroyed my dreams of ultimate power, at least I can watch in delight as your will to live washes away. We all saw it happen when you lost Nina, the figurative little sister. Imagine my sheer excitement to see you lose the woman you love."

Adrenaline shot my eyes open. He loved me.

My moment of euphoria came and went in a flash, cut short by my vision newly focused on flames roaring across the room and quickly climbing the walls. Beakers, test tubes, and vials all lay smashed: thier crimson contents pooling across the floor surrounding the gleaming shards. Dozens lay in blood with faces petrified in wide-eyed horror, paralyzed by their final vision of the waking world. My gaze shifted, and there he was, a dark silhouette against the bright orange flames. His back to me while gripping his enemy's collar, with his metal arm pressing the gleaming edge of a long blade against Bradley's throat.

"I don't want to die anymore. I stopped wishing for death months ago, because I have someone to live for. You took everything from me once," Edward's deadly voice graveled. "You're not taking it again."

I watched, suspended in horror and fascination as his right arm reared back then drove the blade home in the base of King Bradley's throat. I'd never known so much blood could come from one person. I had no idea someone's muscular anatomy could be pulled from their body with such ease, then wick away from blood-covered metal with such grand, devastating flourish. I knew he'd killed before, I suspected he'd killed nearly everyone in the room. I didn't know that seeing him take a life in such a vicious, primal way would leave me breathless. In awe of his deadly grace, rocked by his predatory glare finally finding mine, horrified and nauseated at his blood-coated EVERYTHING; heart-stopped when his expression crumbled and he dropped to his knees, head in this hands, having just revealed to me the darkest part of himself.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing. More on the way.


	18. Chapter 18

I'll throw my voice into the stars and maybe the echo of my words will be written for you in the clouds by sunrise.  
All I am trying to say is:  
I will love you through the darkness.

-Christopher Poindexter

* * *

Low murmuring voices pulled me to the surface. I could hear, but I couldn't move or speak or even open my eyes. The heart moniter beeped softly, a steady metronome amongst the hushed whisperings. Everything ached. My entire body seemed to whine in protest of my conciousness, my head pounded, and my mouth was dry as the sahara. The muffled voices began to slowly come clear.

"...can be arranged, if it's what you really want. I'm not saying it's an easy life, but it's managable. With proper therapy- "

"-Absolutly not. Out of the question."

I knew these voices. It was Roy Mustang and Edward.

"You're not giving yourself enough credit. You saved her life."

"She nearly died because of me."

"You can't shoulder all the guilt for this. You were following orders, we all were. Nobody could have seen this coming. There was no way to avoid this. You have to accept that and be grateful you were able to stop it before it cost you everything." Mustang spoke in a manner I'd never heard before. Gone was the towering authority, replaced with the calmness of sage wisdom and the softness of family speaking to family. I heard a shuddering intake of air.

"What if it already cost me everything?" Edward asked, his voice cracking. "It's been two days, why isn't she waking up?"

Mustang's voice became muffled and fell away from me as I surrendered to exhaustion.

* * *

The fuzziness began to clear again, and I was met with the hysterical voice of my Grandmother.

"...personally responsible! This is an absolute outrage! Where is he? Where is that bastard Alchemist of yours who failed to do his job?!"

"Mrs. Rockbell please, if you would only calm down for a moment we-"

"Calm down?! My Granddaughter is stalked, kidnapped, beaten, drained of blood within an inch of her life, and you want me to be calm? You all need to get your heads out of your asses!"

"Mrs. Rockbell?" My heart sank at the sound of Edward's voice, wary and defeated and so unlike him. I could hear Riza in the room as well, taking the tongue lashing from my Grandmother.

"Edward what are you doing here? You haven't recovered yet, does Dr. Marcoh know you're here?" Her question went unanswered.

"You." My Grandmother started. "Are you the soldier who was supposed to be gaurding my Granddaughter?" The room grew quiet except for the beeping of the heart moniter.

"Yes." He answered bleakly.

"If you weren't such a tall drink of water I'd reach up there and knock you into next week you irrisponsible, good-for-nothing, son of a bitch!"

"Mrs. Rockbell that's quite enough!" Riza yelled. My head returned to its throbbing thanks to all my Grandmother's yelling, and I began to drift in and out of Riza's stern voice reasoning,

"This most likely would have happened wether Ed was involved or not. It's thanks to him that Winry is still with us, and ... ...more than his own safety... ...not his fault..."

* * *

Wetness dripped on my hand. I remained immobile as my mind climbed out of the abyss once more, unaware of the time or date, if I was alone or in the presence of others. The usual noisy hustle and bustle that accompanied the daytime was noticeably absent, replaced with stark quiet and a lack of movement from my surroundings. I suddenly realized my hand was folded between cold and warmth, and warm beads continued to roll over my skin.

"I'm so sorry." He croaked. "For everything."

I screamed at my body to move. Twitch a finger, blink an eye, do something for God's sake. But alas, I remained stationary. The mattress dipped as I felt him shift to sit beside me, and warm lips pressed themselves to my forehead.

"It has to be this way. For your own good."

And he was gone.

* * *

My eyes finally fluttered open to sunlight pouring through venetian blinds. Looking around I saw that I'd been hooked up to not only a heart moniter, but various machines dedicated to monitering my other organs and and two IVs: one giving me nutrients, the other giving me blood. Roy Mustang sat in a chair against the wall at the foot of my hospital bed, looking horrible. Dark circles, day-old stubble, his wild black hair even more wild than usual.

"Welcome back." He said. His military uniform jacket lay folded over the empty chair beside him and his white shirt was sloppily pushed to his elbows and open at the collar. He looked like he'd been running from the law. My inability to hide my stare wasn't lost on him.

"If you think I look bad, you should see Edward." Riza walked in at that moment and came to my bedside with a plastic cup full of ice chips. It was amazing how she always seemed to know exactly what a person needed. She spooned one out and fed it to me.

"You can't have anything to drink yet, but these are okay. We'll take it slow." Nothing in the world had felt as good as that ice melting in my dry mouth. Riza continued to feed me chips while Mustang spoke.

"If you're wondering, Edward's okay. He's a mess, but he'll be alright. He's worried about you." He turned to Riza as if I wasn't there and added, "You'd think he'd listen to me when I told him 50 goddamn times that she'd be fine." He rolled his eyes drammatically and Riza sent him a look.

"Cut him some slack. Remember when I was in this hospital after taking that bullet back in '07?" She turned back to me and smiled. "He paced outside my room wringing his hands nervously for days. Even though he'd been told more than once I'd be perfectly fine and home by the weekend." This earned a smile from me. The first one in what felt like forever. I finally found my voice, albeit a weak one and said,

"Can I see him?" Riza moved to sit next to the General.

"Not yet," He responded. "You're still recovering and so is he."

"He's recovering? Did he get hurt?" I tried to recall what had happened after Ed killed Bradley but came up empty. Roy and Riza cast eachother a quick glance.

"He took a bullet to the shoulder but he's fine." She said. "However, his mental state is fragile. He's been spending hours with his therapist everyday." I bit back a gasp and pushed down my rising panic at the thought of him being shot.

"His therapist?" I asked. Riza cast Mustang another worried glance, and he gave her a small nod to proceed. Clearly I was tip-toeing on a sensitive subject.

"He's been seeing a therapist regularly for years." Riza explained. "Edward's had a difficult life, therapy helps keeps his head above water. But it's obvious that he's seriously relapsed considering he attacked you."

I had nearly forgotten about that.

"Yes, he did. But I don't think he meant to. Something was wrong with him."

"Edward hasn't had a violent outburst from his nightmares in, well years if I had to guess." Mustang interjected. "They've always been triggered by prolonged periods of intense emotional distress. I didn't want Edward to be the one watching over you because I was afraid of him becoming too emotionally involved and becoming a danger to you and ultimately himself. Make no mistake, I would trust Ed with my own life, but we all care about you Winry and I knew if he ever met you, he'd grow to love you just as the rest of us have." His dark eyes flickered towards the window on-looking the nurse's station and I followed his gaze to find the smiling faces of Hughes, Havoc, Breada, Jessica, Feury and Sheska looking in on me.

It was then that I finally realized what Ed had been trying to help me see all along. I wasn't alone. I was never alone and I would never be alone. I had family in my Grandmother, who at 76 wasn't afraid to mouth off to an assassin in my defense. I had friends in the soldiers at Central, who took me in and watched me grow and gave me the tools to cure sicknesses. And I had love in Edward Elric, who became the first person I could truly open up to. The person who went the furthest out of his way to make me comfortable and secure. He never missed an opportunity to empower me, to help me face a fear, to catch me whenever I would fall. He helped me believe I could become the person I'd always wanted to be. Riza's voice brought me back to the room.

"I know how much you care about Ed. Just know that he's okay and understand that it will be awhile before you can see him, if that's what he wants."

"What he wants?"

Riza steeled herself before answering, and it made me fear what her reply would be. She looked back at me with wet eyes.

"There's a chance that Edward may not be able to see you again. Ever." She said softly. Roy slid his hand under hers and ran his thumb across her knuckles, completely unconcerned by my presence in the room. I had never seen Riza get emotional. And I never knew that she and the General were so involved. His small gesture of comfort was far too intimate to be an occurrence between 'just friends'. Anxiety swept through me when her words finally registered.

"I don't understand. What are you saying?" Mustang saved Riza the discomfort of having to continue and answered for her.

"We're not sure Ed can handle being around you. There's no doubt in our minds he cares deeply for you. He's never broken so many rules and and he's never disobeyed so many orders until he met you. When he was ordered away from your apartment I sent him to Finland to look into something important as a way to keep him busy; I didn't want him pre-occupied with what was happening with you, no offense. I needed his head on straight if he had any hope of doing his job and keeping you safe, but he completely sacked the mission when he started getting pictures of you sleeping. He's never sabotaged a mission before, knowing full well that such behavior is a great way to get court marshalled. You're like family to us Winry, and I wanted someone else gaurding you because any other soldier would have been sent in with orders to succeed in keeping you safe at any cost, even if it meant sacrificing their own life. But when the order came in to send Fullmetal to you, the situation changed. State Alchemists aren't like other soldiers. They aren't ordered to succeed at all costs. They're ordered to SURVIVE at all costs. Because there are so few of them and their skills are so valueable, the military has been known to abort a mission and try again later if it meant they could save an Alchemist. Edward was told by Bradley himself that if things got really bad, he was to get out and leave you to die."

Riza sat forward and quickly interjected, "Please believe we were never okay with that Winry. We wanted someone watching you who would have orders to keep you alive no matter what. That's why Edward wasn't supposed to be there."

"Edward put himself in immense danger by going after you." Roy continued. "He completely shattered protocol by jumping off your apartment building's roof and running into gunfire to get to you. He took several bullets in his false limbs along with the one that got his left shoulder. He also went against his orders in the warehouse where King Bradley was draining you. When we moved in, I had instructed him to wait for the opportune moment to incapacitate Bradley and his men and shut down the operation. But I could barely hold him back during Bradley's psychotic monologue, and when we watched your head get slammed into the floor he went ballistic and slaughtered everyone, putting his life at risk yet again despite his orders."

This was information overload.

"Edward is dangerous, Winry. He's a danger not only to you, but to himself when emotionally comprimised. He attacked you in his sleep because he spent days going out of his mind thinking you were dead and the stress made him relive his past in his nightmares. He has an incredibly dangerous job that victimized you as a way to get to him, and who's to say that couldn't happen again? You've managed to emotionally comprimise him more than anyone he's ever encountered. You're both adults and we can't tell you what to do, we're just warning you that he may not be willing to see you ever again if it means risking your safety. You need to prepare for that likely possibility."

Mustang's warning felt like a sledge hammer to the chest. He was right. Edward and I could never be together because even though I was willing to put myself at risk, Ed would never allow it. I recalled the sound of his broken voice, telling me how sorry he was and holding my hand, kissing my forehead. Telling me that it had to be this way. He wasn't coming back. He would make sure we never saw eachother again. Riza had the good sense to usher herself and Roy to the doorway when my tears started to fall. She looked back at me from the doorway.

"I want to be alone, please." I said through the lump in my throat. Her eyes swam again and she turned away as a tear fell. I watched Roy put an arm around her and motion his team to disperse as they left. Finally alone, I curled myself on my aching side and wept knowing that Edward wouldn't be coming to find me. But my devastation was cut short by a thought. He cried. He CRIED. He wept when he told me goodbye. He didn't want to leave me, same as before when he held me in my apartment and insisted that he never wanted to leave me to go to Finland. Same as when we sat in front of my fire place while he rattled off like a maniac about not getting too close before insisting that I was stuck with him, like it or not. He was a rule breaker. He didn't follow orders when it came to me. I found a tiny glimmer of hope in the thought that If I could find him, if I could see him just for a moment, his resolve would snap and he wouldn't be able to stay away. I had so many questions, I was so worried about him. I would not allow him to vanish from my life, because I knew that deep down, he didn't really want to leave.

* * *

A/N: There's a lot of information here, and more secrets to be revealed very soon, along with some surprising behavior. Thanks for hanging in there, your support and reviews mean the world to me.


	19. Chapter 19

And in the end,  
we were all just humans,  
drunk on the idea that love,  
only love,  
could heal our brokeness.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

* * *

Days passed in which time I'd finally regained the ability to keep down food that wasn't just liquid. I'd regained all my strength and the bruises up and down my arms were beginning to slowly fade. I was still experiencing headaches; there was a hairline crack in my skull from having my head smashed on concrete. When I was finally released from the hospital I was brought out to my Grandmother's car in a wheel chair and we drove to her house in Astoria. The home my Granny kept was the same home I'd grown up in from the time I went to live with her after my parents passed. It was a modest, 3 bedroom brick-front house, smushed between identical neighboring houses as part of a row. She ushered me into the living room and fixed us some peppermint tea, settled down in her club chair adjacent to my spot on her plastic-covered, floral-patterned sofa.

"Now," She said, "If you're feeling up to it, please, tell me everything. I want to hear what happened from your point of view."

So over the next hour I answered all her questions and layed everything on the table. Well, almost everything. I was very careful to not mention Edward anymore than I had to. But my Granny was no fool.

"I briefly met Edward the other day at the hospital." She said.

"I know, I heard you hollering at him. It wasn't his fault, Gran."

"You were awake?" She remarked with surprise.

"Sort of. My mind was present but my body wasn't ready. I was in and out for awhile." She sighed and fixed her gaze on the teacup in her lap.

"Well he'll just have to understand. You're my whole world, child. You're everything I've got. I'm not going to tip-toe around some reckless punk with mental issues just because you've taken a shine to him. He was supposed to be taking care of you."

Tears welled. Everything was so completely fucked up, and I hated everyone coddling me and keeping secrets from me. I wasn't a child. Edward helped me realize that I was in control; I was always the one controlling my fate and I didn't have to answer to anyone. I could live whatever life I choose, and I was taking my life back.

"Gran, do you trust me? You value my opinion right?" I asked. She looked up at me.

"Of course."

"Then I need you to stop blaming Edward for this. He's important to me. Secretary Bradley wanted to see Edward suffer, and that was why he came after me. He probably could have taken my blood from Central easily if he wanted, but he was insane and used me to hit Edward where it hurts. Ed's far from perfect, but he's been good to me. He cares about me. I don't blame him for this, you shouldn't either." She regarded me with caution before asking,

"You two became closer than you should've, am I right?" I blushed and nodded sheepishly.

"Well," She said, straightening up in her chair. "You'll have to work pretty hard to help me see why you think he's so damned special beyond that handsome face." I smiled a bit as hope glowed in me like soft embers, and I knew that with some time, some digging, and some luck, the embers of hope could spark into a blazing new beginning.

* * *

I had spent the next two weeks trying to contact Edward. I had never deleted his number back when he told me to, and every text or phone call went unanswered. The weight of worrying fell heavy on me, and soon I could neither sleep nor eat. I felt like a school girl again, nervous to be the one picking up the phone to make the first move. I would find myself pacing frantically in the smoking lounge that was once my bedroom rehearsing in my mind all the different ways a conversation could play out. My heart thumped wildly as my thumb hovered over his name in my contact list. And each time I forced myself to press down I would pace even faster and fidget ridiculously, focusing my eyes on the floor and twisting a lock of blonde hair around my finger, my heart pumping exponentially harder for one ring... two rings... three... four... and then his voice would purr out deep and smooth, *_Leave a message_.*

Of course I'd never had the balls to actually leave a message. It wouldn't be any good. It would be an awkward, unsexy, flabbergasted, rambling string of fumbled words and run-on sentances. It would make me hide my face in my hands in humiliation. It would be torture. But it had to be done. So when the day finally came and I stood in the lounge with a glass of liquid courage in my hand at 2 in the afternoon, I pulled out my phone, scrolled to his name, pressed down with meaning, and waited. Waited... waited... waited again... boom, there it is. *_Leave a message*_

**BEEEP**

"Er, hiiii," Jesus. Two words in and I'd already fucked it up. I shook it away and pressed on. "I need to talk to you. I need to see you, I... I miss you. I need to know if you're alright. I'm fine -well I mean duh I'm alright I've been blowing up your phone enough -GAH!"

FUUUUUCCCCKKKKK.

I yelped when I stubbed my toe on the coffee table's leg from all my frantic pacing. "Sorry I, uh, hit my foot. So um yea, just seeing if you're okay and um, call me. Please. If you want to. OKTHANKSBYE!"

Christ.

Hanging up I knocked back the rest of my whiskey and stomped out to the living room. A pathetic message like that wouldn't be enough to draw out results, and I knew that greater action must be taken.

"Gran I need to go to my apartment for some things. I need to get out of the house." I announced. She stopped her tinkering with an auto part on the kitchen table and looked up in surprise.

"You haven't eaten today, please eat something while you're in the city. I thought you hated going out."

"I don't hate it so much anymore. I've been wanting to be more independant for a long time, and I'm ready to start. I'll be back later."

"And what brought all this on?"

I grabbed my metro card and slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans with my phone and looked back at her from the front door.

"Edward showed me." I closed the door and marched toward the subway in determination. I wasn't heading home, I was heading to 5th avenue and then I was heading to Central. I had a plan, sort of. But I needed honest answers about Edward, and Roy Mustang was going to give them to me. I also needed a really hot outfit.

* * *

I marched into Central with enough new-found confidence and no-nonsense attitude to rival my Grandmother, and made a bee-line for Roy's office. He was alone and on the phone. I had stopped at Rag & Bone and swapped out my usual leggings and baggy sweater for something else just incase I should run into Edward; luck favors the prepared and boy did I look lucky. Tight black jeans to flaunt my long legs and curves, a white cotton t-shirt with a dangerously low V-neck that was just loose enough to skim over my silhouette and make a man curious, and a tailored black leather jacket. Very clean, very sleek, very New York. The sound of my Frye boots heavy against the floor brought Mustang's attention to me, and his eyes widened a fraction.

"Winry, you're looking well. Have a seat. How are you feeling?" I took a seat in front of his desk.

"I'm feeling better. My head still hurts, but I suppose having your skull cracked will do that." He smiled weakly at my morbid joke.

"I'm assuming you're here about Edward." He presumed. "Have you heard from him?"

"I've been calling him, he hasn't responded."

"Well, it sounds like that's your answer." He said cautiously. I sighed.

"I know you said he may not want to see me again. But I have the right to ask him questions about what happened. I feel that I have the right to know about him." I could see the wheels in Roy's head turning, cogs fitting together in synchronized fashion and he formulated his thoughts.

"You're right." He said, looking at me. "You have a right to know. Maybe knowing more about his past will help you understand why having a relationship with him is so difficult. Being with a State Alchemist is no walk in the park, Riza and I would know all about that."

_'So they ARE together.'_ I thought to myself.

"I have my own demons that I've been trying to drown for years, but they're nothing compared to Ed's. Perhaps knowing what his are will help you decide if that's a path you're willing to go down."

He pushed a button on his phone and said, "No calls or interruptions for the next hour please."

A woman's voice unknown to me responded with a friendly 'you got it'. I sank further into my seat, getting comfortable as Roy started.

"I met Edward 17 years ago."

* * *

"I was a Colonel, spending my days working closely with Hughes investigating the disappearances of nearly 300 children who all went missing in a matter of a month. It wouldn't have seemed unusual because of its global scale, but the demographic caught our attention. We learned they were all boys between the ages of 12 and 14, in good health, and all were straight A students. Months of searching finally led us to a warehouse just outside the city limits near Helsinki, Finland."

A little flag waved in my head. Didn't Edward say he left my apartment because of something he had to take care of in Finland?

"I've been to war and seen my share of horrible things, but nothing could've prepared me for what we found in that warehouse. Outside it appeared abandoned, but the inside was a full-scale, experimental medical facility. Hundreds of people: doctors, surgeons, mechanical engineers and scientists had all banded together for one purpose. To create an army of unstoppable assassins. They had abducted kids so they could brainwash them to forget who they were, replace their limbs with machines their bodies ultimately rejected and turn them into ruthless killers."

"How could someone do something like that? Who would be so sick?" I asked, blinking back tears.

"We could find no information on anyone working in the facility. The computers had been wiped, I'm guessing by Bradley himself or whoever was working for him, now that we know he was the one behind it from the start. When you have a seat of power like his, it's very easy to cover things up. When my garrison arrived, the walls and floors were a fresh coat of red. We were too late. Everyone in the building was dead, except for one. The first time I ever laid eyes on Edward he was sitting in a pool of blood, surrounded by his victims. He was 12 years old."

I had no words. I stared at Roy in utter shock, and he dipped his head down towards a nearby cabinet and resurfaced with a couple highball glasses and bottle of amber liquid. He poured us each two fingers.

"This helps. It may not be considered a healthy way of coping, but I dare some self-righteous psychiatrist to say anything about it after hearing this story. Telling it never gets easy."

I took a swallow as he continued.

"There were files on all the kids who were taken, detailing who they were and where they were from. But we searched high and low and never found any information about our lone survivor. Edward has no memory of his life. He's told me his earliest memory is waking up on the operating table with machines for limbs and completely losing control. He has no idea where he's from, when he was born; his age is an estimation made by medical professionals, we're not even completely sure his name is Edward. There was a band on his wrist when we found him with his height, weight, and blood type. The only name was listed as E.V.H. Elric. He only suspects his name could be Edward."

I was beyond floored. How in God's name did he manage to carry on? The loneliness of my life paled in comparison to his suffering. To wake up surrounded by strangers, dismembered with no memory of who you are or how you got there; to be the only known person in existence with such an abnormality, something no one else could ever relate to. That was true loneliness.

I pushed down the lump in my throat, telling myself 'no more tears'. Ed wouldn't want it.

"I saw first glimpses of King Bradley's insanity when he took aim at Edward, ready to execute him for his obvious crime, maintaining that the child was a monster and a serious threat to society. It was Riza who stopped him. She lept between them, held Ed with no concern for her own safety, and begged Bradley to reconsider. I managed to convince him to let us work with him and train him up to become a soldier. It was easy to see his unique abilities as a powerful asset to us. After two years of intensive therapy with child psychologists, he had improved so rapidly that I pushed for him to be employed as a State Alchemist. He wanted to be a force for good, instead of the destructive purpose he was created for. He works almost exclusively with counter terrorism efforts; he's responsible for thwarting countless terrorist attacks all over the globe. He's helped maintain a level of peace the world is completely unaware was even at risk, and he does it all in secret because of his abnormality. The world has no clue what he's gone through to help others because he doesn't open up to people. He hides himself away, much like you do."

It made so much sense in that moment, the reason we were so drawn to one another. We were exactly the same.

"There's a few things I don't get." I said, "If Kimblee was working with Bradley, why did he warn me about Ed at the charity function?"

"My guess would be to frighten you. Making you afraid of Ed would make protecting you very difficult. It was a great way to get to you psychologically and Edward emotionally."

"I supposed that makes sense. What about Bradley's accomplices? The ones making the bodies and whatnot?" I asked.

"All dead. They were in the room with Bradley and his goons, watching you get tortured. Edward didn't take kindly to it." Mustang said.

"How did you even find me? I was terrified no one would come in time, considering I'd already been held hostage for two days."

Mustang blinked at me.

"Winry we found you and got you out of there in less that 5 hours. Edward chased the van you were in and lodged a tracking bullet in the bumper. You were in a warehouse near Chelsea Piers. We're still waiting on toxicology reports, but it sounds like in addition to being criminally insane, Bradley was probably on his fare share of drugs if he thought it had been two days."

I slumped a little in my chair and downed the remaining contents of my glass.

"You're up to speed now," Roy said. "What are you going to do about Edward? If you walked away no one would blame you. He knows that a life with him comes with insane baggage, it's absolutly the reason he's avoiding you." I contemplated his words for a moment.

"Do you know where he is? Can I see him? I just...I just really need to talk to him." Mustang regarded me cooly before responding.

"You're a remarkable person, Winry Rockbell. Despite everything you've seen and learned about the Fullmetal Alchemist, you're not afraid of him. In spite of everything that's gone down, you still care." He gave me a small smile. "I don't know what he'll say, but I think you two could do eachother a lot of good."

He drained his glass, stood, and walked me to his office door.

"Take the elevator furthest to the right and punch in the code '503'. Go to the 7th floor. Good luck."

The thrill of anxiety and excitement rushed through me, and I took off running.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry it took me longer than usual to update. This needed to be a perfect setup for the next chapter, which is coming very soon, and is my favorite one. Can't wait for you to see it.


	20. Chapter 20

I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.  
- Galileo

* * *

My heart pounded in my chest as I watched the numbers above the door climb slowly. The soft ping and stopping of the elevator informed me of my arrival on the 7th floor. The doors opened and I stepped out into the foyer that expanded into an airy great room. Polished hard-wood floors met matte taupe walls that climbed 30 feet at their peak to meet white cathedral ceilings. I was transfixed by industrial shelves and tables molded from raw woods and wrought irons accenting the buttery lushness of warm brown leather club chairs and the coarse kanvas stretched over cusions into tufts on a long, charcoal sofa. The dust of everyday living, or perhaps the lack-there-of, floated in the air suspended by the golden beams of sunlight that poured into the apartment from the skylights, and criss-crossing exposed wooden beams painted glowing geometrics on every surface. I was so absorbed by the rustic beauty of my surroundings that I completely forgot the reason I even came. And then I heard him.

"What are you doing here?"

My stomach flipped and I whirled around. There he was. He had a way of making those low-riding charcoal sweats I loved and a fitted, short-sleeve black tee shirt look like luxury items. Flesh and metal arms were folded, his brow knit in a stern manner, and his golden eyes carried their usual piercing assertiveness. Slightly taken aback by his unexpected query, I responded,

"Are you alright? I never heard from you. Its been weeks and I've been worried. Have you been here all along?"

"I'm fine." he tersly replied. Something was wrong with him. He was different. Colder. "Even though all your problems have been solved, it's still bedlam here. I've been busy." Confusion and worry were conjuring inside me. Why was he acting this way? He continued to stare me down as I crossed the room swiftly to be closer to him.

"What's going on? Are you not feeling well? Why are you treating me like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like you did when we first met!" I exclaimed. "I've been worried about you for weeks wondering if you were alright. I'm not eating, I'm not sleeping, all I can think about is getting to you. And now that I'm here it's like you don't even know me." My eyes fell from his to the floor as my throat began to tighten. I heard him breathe out a sigh and he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Winry I apreciate you coming here, but I don't need you to check on me. What I need is for you to take better care of yourself. I know you're not in my charge anymore, but Mustang will have my head if something happens to you that I can prevent. I need you to move on with your life and forget about me."

My head snapped up. His hand dropped to his side. The hardened look is his eyes held a coldness that he had never excersized on me before. Dread creeped slowly into my chest and twisted its way toward my stomach like murky fog, and tears welled.

"How can you say that?" I quaked, "Have you completely forgotten about what we went through? You said I was important to you! You said you would always be here for me, and now you're sending me away?"

"This is how it has to be. I do care about you, but you need to go back to your normal life. A life without me in it." He reasoned. My throat continued to tighten and I couldn't keep the tears back. Reaching up I held his face in my hands and coaxed him to look at me in a desperate attempt to see what he was thinking. His amber orbs revealed nothing to me. The wall that we had chipped away at for months before finally toppeling over had suddenly been rebuilt. My lip quivered.

"How can I go back to my normal life? I never had a normal life! You showed me that!" I wailed. "I was a husk of a girl, living an existance that I thought would be fufilling until you showed me that's all I was doing. _EXISTING_. Not living." I stood on tip toes to rest my forehead against his as my eyes shut in sudden exhaustion. "You showed me the possibility of a life I never thought I could have." I pleaded quietly, "If you dissapear, I'll never truly live again." I felt him gently push me away and he shook his head in frustration.

"For your own good, just go away." His words slammed into me and my hand flew to my mouth. Fear, anger and agonizing sadness were raging at eachother in my soul. Anger won.

"Were you LYING when you said that I was important to you? That you cared about me?!" I wailed bitterly. "I don't care about your automail, or your past, or your job, I care about YOU!" Fire sparked in his eyes at this, and he began to unravel.

"Winry I'm losing my patience, get out of my apartment." He damanded. I wasn't leaving. I continued to sob.

"I don't give a damn about what's easy, and I don't care how many times some asshole threatens my life. Even during our worst times I still felt safe with you. I've never been happier than I am with you. I _love _you Edward!" He stepped to me and gripped me hard by my upper arms, jostling me in anger.

"YOU SAW WHAT HAPPENED!" he roared at me, fire raging in his eyes. "I strangled you in my sleep! I slaughtered dozens of men in front of you! I EVISCERATED King Bradley without a second thought! It was easy! Ripping his throat out was like breaking a fucking toothpick and I did it without a drop of remorse."

My eyes squeezed shut, my heart unable to bear the weight of this agony, and my voice cracked amidst my sobs. "You were protecting me."

"I WAS GETTING REVENGE! I'm angry, and impulsive, and I'm driven by pure hatred. I'm not capable of controlling myself. I'm a perfect assasin because its what the government built me to be! Winry, killing is the only thing I'm good at. I'm a monster. I will _KILL_ you if I lose control. Don't give me that opportunity. LEAVE NOW!" His heavy breathing blew bursts of warmth into my face and my already fragile state began to melt where it had already crumbled. The onslaught was unbearable. Fresh tears spilled as I softly replied,

"Tell me you don't love me." He released me and took a step back. His eyes widened a fraction for a split second before his hardened, stoic expression returned.

"Enough is enough Winry, stop torturing yourself." I focused my glassy cerulean gaze back at him and clenched my shaking fists at my sides in determination.

"Edward, tell me you don't love me."

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered to himself, hand at his hip and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked back at me with black fire in his eyes, and I knew then that it was over. "Don't come up here ever again. Don't call me, don't ask about me, and don't come looking for me because I'm going to spend the rest of my life staying away from you. You don't hold any special place in my heart, you're Mustang's miserable little lab rat to stick all his needles in and I was simply protecting a multi-million dollar government investment. You were a job. A contract. I've finished my job and now have no reason to see you ever again. I don't love you Winry. Now GO!."

My blood ran cold. Misery clawed her cruel hands around my heart and dragged me down to the crushing depths of her black ocean. My hand flew to my mouth in a feeble attempt to comfort the tightening in my throat from the new wave of despair. I raked my hands through my hair, waiting for the walls to break away and for me to wake up from this horrific nightmare. Except that wasn't happening, and I was melting down. I turned and ran, leaving the ear-splitting sounds of glass shattering off the wall and Edward's raging curses behind me.

* * *

I burst through the door to the stairwell and raced down the stairs as swiftly as my liquifying legs would bring me. Between the tear-blurred vision, my weak knees, and my shattered heart, I simply couldn't take another step. I stopped on the fifth floor landing, leaned against the wall, and completely gave in to my heart-wrenching, heaving sobs. I was so deep in my turmoil that I didn't hear the uneven footsteps racing down the stairs behind me. I was suddenly turned around and crushed against a warm, hard body. Strong arms of warm flesh and cold metal held me desperately, one supporting my weak body with the other cradling my head and I felt Ed's hot mouth all over me. Pressing his lips over my own, and my closed eyes, my tear-stained face, full and slow, pouring out muttered 'I love you's', hoping every contact would lessen the sting of the horrible things he'd said as he whispered over and over,

"Forgive me. Winry, forgive me."

My head was throbbing from the stress of being reduced to a sad puddle, and I had no strength to fight him off when he scooped me up and climbed the stairs back up to his apartment. My tears had stopped but my breath still hitched in small, shuddering gaps as I tried to slow my heart rate, with no luck. We entered the great room once again and headed toward the hall when I snapped out of it, thinking to myself,

_'This is some real BULLSHIT.'_

"Put me down." I mewed, struggling to break free as his grip on me only tightened. "Let me go!" He ignored me and continued past the kitchen and down the hall into his bedroom.

"You jerk put me down NOW!" I yelled, pushing myself out of his arms to stand on my own wobbly legs. I swiped any remaining wetness from my face and glared at him as I moved to walk past him. No way was I sticking around. He blocked his bedroom doorway.

"I'm sorry, don't leave. We need to talk about this." I swear my eyes nearly bugged out of my head.

"NOW you want to talk?! Fuck _OFF_, Elric!" Bravo Winry, let him have it. "Get out of my way."

"I can't let you leave, not like this. Please let me explain and if you still wanna go I won't stop you. I didn't mean what I said, I swear it." I ducked under his arm braced against the door frame and strode past him, towards the greatroom. He followed after me.

"You don't need to explain anything, Edward. Roy already told me all about you." I stopped my crusade for the stairwell door when I heard his uneven footfalls halt suddenly. Shit. I sighed and turned.

"I already told you, your past has no effect on my opinion of you. But this behavior? This borderline, split-personality? I don't know what to make of it. You can't say what you just said to me and expect me to stick around and hear you out. It's bullshit, Ed." I waited. I could tell he was scared. If he wanted me to be a part of his life, in any fashion, he had to say the right thing, right now. Otherwise, good riddance.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Remember when we were in the shower, and I said that you scared me? I knew what I wanted, and I knew there would be consequences, but I didn't care. I told you I was afraid of you, and afraid of what would happen afterwards. But I didn't tell you when I started being afraid."

I stared blankly, waiting for him to make his point.

"I've been freaking out inside for a long time over you. You know that I've been a mess about this, going back and forth. Saying one thing and doing the opposite. All I've ever known is the job: I've always had my orders and I've never had an issue accomplishing a task, even if I had to break rules to make it happen. But now, for the first time in my life I've been struggling between what's allowed, what's right, what's easy, and ultimately what I want. Because they're all different things."

"You're not making sense!" I barked impatiently. My throat was betraying me once again with it's building tightness. I silently ordered myself to not cry infront of him again. He stepped to me again and took my hand.

"I know I'm not. I'm sorry. I've never done this before." I averted my eyes, too angry to look at him, but he laced his fingers through my hair and brought me back to meet his gaze. "I didn't mean what I said before. Not a word of it. I was pushing you away because it's easier to live my life alone if I know that I'm not endangering you. It's pretty selfish of me to beg for your understanding after everything I've done to you. But I can't let you leave without knowing the truth."

"What truth?" I asked.

"That you're not just a job to me. You never have been. The day I walked into Mustang's office and saw you was the day I went live, and it terrified me. I pushed you away because of how I felt, knowing that it's against policy for us to be together -not to mention completely dangerous- and that you wouldn't possibly want anything to do with me if you knew what I really was. And I got angrier at you because you just wouldn't stop being so damn ...enticing." No wonder he was such a crab half the time. His words were hypnotizing me, capturing me with a passionate honesty so unlike the Edward I'd known.

"I lied when I said you held no place in my heart; until I met you I thought I didn't have one. You've managed to fill up every inch of it." I had thought for sure he'd killed every one of the butterflies in my stomach, but they began to stir softly in time with the thumping of my cautious heart. I was hopeful, but not a fool.

"Edward, what are you trying to tell me?" I asked, stepping closer to him. "Stop thinking about what you're supposed to do or supposed to say. You told me to take control of my life, now I'm telling you to do the same. Tell me what you really want." He took a breath to steady himself and gazed back at me.

"You know what I want, but it's not fair for me to ask this of you. We're both playing with fire here, and I..." He sighed sadly, and gathered me into his arms. "...It's just too dangerous to have me in your life." I was almost ready to start crying again when an thought hit me, and I pulled back to look at Ed.

"What if it doesn't have to be?"

* * *

His bedroom was dark grey walls and plush white carpeting. Minimalist, utilitarian black furnishings kept most personal belongings hiddens, and we were in a King size bed surrounded by the high thread count Egyptian cotton I'd grown to miss almost as much as the man it smelled like. He had attacked me with a passionate desperation very different from the first time we'd done this dance. The first time he was fast and hard, pleasure almost punishing. A hungry wolf, taking his prey, satisfying a long-built appetite, grinning wickedly as I gave myself over completely and he devoured me to quench his thirst and sate his starvation. This time his passion was far more controlled, very careful not to call attention to healing wounds, basking in the relief of forgiveness and urgently conveying his adoration. I was divine goddess, slowly savored with expert precision and gratuitously worshipped; a rare treasure he had no difficulty showing his devotion to before sliding in to take his claim. The unhurried siphoning as he pumped from pools thought to be forbidden to him, divulging in the gluttenous feast he had self-disciplined to indulge in one delicous taste at a time as I slowly starved on the other end, the want growing tighter and tighter in my belly. I grabbed him and pulled him flush against me, nearly all his weight pressing me into the mattress and driving him deliciously deeper in me, where he belonged.

"Faster. Now." I gasped.

"Your wounds."

"Minor. Take me faster now."

I panted loudly as he angled himself, and obeyed goddess divine's demands.

* * *

I awoke to sunlight glowing through the blinds and stretched lazily in bed. Without reaching for my phone on the floor I knew there would be missed texts from my grandmother, asking if I'd stayed at my apartment last night. I untwisted myself from the sheets and sat up, to find the bed empty next to me. My heart dropped. He had fled again. I jumped up and pulled the sheet around myself as I tiptoed down the hall toward the great room only to be met with the sound of the tv, but no Edward. I didn't have time to be angry or hurt because a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind.

"There she is." He planted a kiss on my bare shoulder. I smiled in relief and turned to meet him. It was like seeing a new person. Heavy alertness gone, the rigid tension and weighted soul of a soldier with PTSD significantly lightened. He looked... happy.

"You thought I bailed again. It was only to get breakfast; the bodega on the corner makes some of the best." He handed me a styrofoam cup of coffee and showed me over to the couch. He was in yesterday's sweats and wrinkled tshirt, unshowered, unshaved, with messy just-been-fucked hair and grinned at me like a cheshire cat when I settled in with his bed sheet billowed around me. He handed me a blueberry muffin -my favorite- from a brown paper bag and reached back in for banana nut.

"I raised more than a few sets of eyebrows this morning when I walked through Central with breakfast for two." He said laughing. I blushed madly.

"Cat's out of the bag, I guess."

"Well," He paused, taking a swig from his coffee. "We won't be sticking around here for long. By the time we get back, I'm hoping the shock will have blown over."

I stopped chewing.

"Back from where?" I gulped. He grinned again and said,

"That's your call. I've got a small plane on standby, ready to go wherever we want, whenever we want. I've never taken a vacation in my life, and you've never left New York. I think one of the best ways to make sure I'm not a danger to you, is to make sure my head's in a good place. Making you happy makes me happy in return." He leaned close and stroked my cheek with his thumb.

"Now, where can I take you?"

* * *

A/N: I hope you all loved this chapter as much as I do. We're in the home stretch, but there's a couple more surprises up my sleeve. Stay with me.


	21. Chapter 21

Because of you I can feel myself  
slowly but surely  
becoming the me  
I have always dreamed  
of being.

-Tyler Knott Gregson

* * *

"Every time I come here I turn into such a fat-ass." He said, and I giggled as he motioned at me for another bite. The restaurant was small -tiny actually, with only 15 tables crammed in together- and nestled between little book shops and cafes on a quiet, cobblestoned street in a quaint town of narrow alleys and crooked old buildings. Not far from the rolling hills and fields where red poppies bloomed in the spring, and just on the edge of Florence, it was easy to see why Tuscany was so satisfying. We were smushed comfortably in the far back corner, opting to sit next to each other as we sampled off each other's plates and indulged in flights of wine. The old brick walls seemed to dance in the flickering light of the votives on each table, the space so tiny that not much further illumination was required.

I was full of pasta and fuzzy from the wine, soft and comfortable curled up next to him in the corner and laughing at his comment as he slung an arm over my shoulders. I swirled some penne through the creamy vodka sauce and fed it to him.

"Now, when you say 'fat-ass', does that mean your body fat percentage goes from 3% to something crazy like, 4%?" He took a swig of wine, furrowed his brow and pouted while nodding. I loved this playful Edward, and I reeled back drammatically, feigning horror.

"Oh Edward you slovenly pig, for shame!"

We both laughed.

* * *

It had been an incredible trip, and we were reaching our vacation's finish line with three days to go. We'd already spent two days in Tuscany; indulging in the savory wine and breathtaking basilicas, four days in Paris; strolling through the snowy streets of the 7th district and getting lost in the splendor of the museums, and a week in England; where we tucked ourselves away in the cozy pubs of old London and took long drives throught the countryside in Surrey before continuing on throught Kent, Basildon Park, and Stevenson. England was my first pick when he asked where I wanted to go. I wanted to see the towns and cities associated with Jane Austen's books. Even though they'd be drastically different from the time when she wrote of them, it was exhilarating to stand there knowing that she existed there, and that her characters and stories were the products of these places. It was incredible, and satisfyed some of the wanderlust I'd been plagued with for so long. The best moment by far had been our very first night in England.

We had rented an SUV and before leaving the lot Edward had blindfolded me in the front seat, saying that it was a surprise. I of course replied that I'd never been outside New York so it was all a surprise and there wasn't much need for a blind fold, to which he responded,

"I don't want you to see the sky. Just trust me." I had no clue what he meant but I trusted him so we chatted animatedly as he drove us to our destination. Nearly an hour later he stopped and powered down the engine, signaling our arrival. As he opened my door and helped me out I couldn't help giggling in anticipation of whatever it was he was planning. It was extremely cold, with fresh snow under my boots and it was eerily quiet. All I could hear was the sound of our breathing and our footsteps in the snow. Finally, we stopped.

"Ready?" He asked, holding my gloved hands in his. I nodded, and I felt him work at the knot and the fabric fell from my eyes. I was met first with his lovely gaze, then looking around me I found us standing alone in a snow covered field several yards from the SUV, which was parked in front of the most charming, brick English cottage. Incandescent light glowed from the windows, and smoke puffed from the chimney. It looked warm and inviting and like it would be the perfect place to curl up with tea and a book. I was elated, and launched myself at Edward, hugging him fiercely.

"It's perfect. I love it." I breathed into his chest. He pulled back from me and smiled.

"That's not the surprise." He said, and motioned skyward. My gaze followed his own and I was left speechless. The black sky was smattered with glittering stars. Peppered heavily across the land; twinkling specks of light bright enough to rival the glowing white moon they danced around. I'd seen these kinds of skys in books and films, they never seemed like they could be real. An entire galaxy of speckled light that we were a part of: so far away and yet right there. Living in one of the biggest cities in the world had unique benefits that set it apart from living anywhere else, but at the cost of some things that everyone else considers a normal part of life. A yard to run around in, a driveway for your car, and stars.

I had caught Edward gazing at me the way that every girl wishes a guy would look at her, and his arm came around to pull me close.

"When you told me you'd never left New York City, I knew that meant you'd never seen stars." He said, following my gaze back to the sky. "There are certain things in life that everyone should see. Snow, the ocean, and stars like these. You have to go to dimly lit parts of the world to see them, but they're worth the effort. When we get back to the states, we'll go to Maine. Maine has stars like these."

Between the chilly winter wonderland around us, the picturesque story book cottage we'd be staying in and the glittering midnight sky, I found my heart soaring with excitement and exhuberant joy, and just before I could start welling up, he grinned and kissed me.

* * *

Paris was every bit romantic as you would hope it to be. I had been surprised yet again when Ed ushered me into a hotel lobby beautiful enough to rival the Plaza Hotel outside Central Park, and positively floored when he handed his American Express black card to the man at Check-In and started rattling off in the most elaborate French. I was positive I bore the face of perfect stupification, because he turned back to me and started laughing. He laced metal fingers through mine and pulled me toward the elevator.

The bellhops had delivered our luggage to the room and left by the time we opened the door to the suite, and my state of awestruck enchantment only continued. Where the English cottage was cozy and quaint with it's warm flannel blankets, shabby chic furniture, rustic fireplace and old world charm, the suite in Paris was opulent; with expensive silks and hand-carved barroque furnishings, crystal chandeliers and uniformed hotel staff with crisp white gloves carrying silver trays from room to room. In England he had payed top dollar for quiet, romantic countryside just outside London. Here his hard-earned money was buying King size goose feather beds with bottles of Cristal on the nightstand and a wrought iron balcony that looked out over the city and served as a perfect perch to gaze at the Eiffel Tower. We were both so damn happy that we broke open the Cristal, got hammered, had wild sex and spent the entire next day in bed with horrible hangovers. After sampling the incredible art and even more incredible food, we would drag ourselves back to the hotel, slightly drunk on chocolate-dipped croissants, rum-soaked petite madelines, and raspberries drenched in champagne. He would close the door, push me up against it, and kiss me deep and slow so I could revisit the tastes of the sugars and liquors off his tongue.

I was roused from deep, drunken slumber by the bed shaking slightly. I turned over to find Edward tossing and turning, clenching the sheets and squeezing his eyes shut as beads of sweat rolled down his brow. I sat up and moved to comfort him but stopped suddenly, remembering what happened the last time I tried to wake him from a nightmare. My throat tightened involuntarily and I pulled my hand back, watching him. Waiting to see if it would stop. But he only continued to suffer in his sleep and I was at an agonizing loss for what to do. A thought clicked in my mind and I grabbed my pillow, holding it in front of me as I crept closer to wake him. That way if he tried to strangle whoever he was dreaming about, when he reached out he'd be grabbing my pillow and not me. I knew it was a pathetic idea to think a down pillow could stop him attacking me, but I was feeling ballsy. My heart pounded as I kneeled over him and soothed my hand across his cheek, calming him almost instantly. I was shaking a little, suddenly wondering if this might've been a bad idea, but I let out a relieved sigh when his eyes blinked open and his hand went to cover mine.

"What happened?" He croaked, panting as he tried to pull himself calmly into the waking world. His clouded, tired gaze met mine and his eyes widened. "Did I-"

"-No. Nothing happened, I'm fine. Are you okay?" I interjected. He said nothing as he sat up slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow. I scooted closer to him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He exhaled, and the moonlight shining in the window gleamed off his metal hand and he raked his fingers through his loose hair.

"It's always the same dream," He said, focusing his attention on the twisted sheets. "I wake up to a blinding light above me, and three dark figures come into my view. Its the surgeons, and they're confused. Looking at me, then at eachother, back and forth. They don't speak, and their confusion quickly shifts into horror when they realize their mistake. I sit up, see what they've done to me, and I lose control. The worst part is how alone I felt. No clue who I am or how I got there, what they wanted, with no one to help me. They implanted me with a defense trigger. I had no choice but to save myself at all costs. I can still hear the screams."

I sat in silence listening, wishing I could offer any form of comforting advice. He took my hand in his and looked at me.

"It's gotten better though. I used to have that nightmare all the time, at least once a week. But when I came to live with you, those numbers shrank. In the months we lived at your place I got some of the best sleep of my life. I only had that nightmare two or three times." This offered me a shred of hope.

"Roy said that you have violent outbursts from the nightmares due to stress."

He nodded, and pulled me to sit beside him.

"It's part of my PTSD." His eyes darkened. "When you got caught in the crossfire, I had just come from the most agonizing 9 hour flight. I thought you might be dead and I had spent half a day panicking about it, trying to tie up loose ends so I could get back to you."

"Why didn't you call Roy or Riza since I wasn't answering?"

"I didn't want anyone to know I was still in contact with you, and it's a good thing I didn't give myself away." I remembered then how he said Mustang got a note threatening to firebomb my apartment if Edward didn't leave. we laid back down and I let my body melt into his.

"I don't mean to make light of the situation," I started softly. "But if it helps, maybe this all happened for a reason. What if there's some big, cosmic reason that we should be in eachother's lives? Maybe this was the only way we would've met." The feel of his fingers gently running through my hair and softly stroking my scalp sent waves of warmth curling through me, and just as my mind was slipping under, he murmured softly,

"That's a good way to think of it." He kissed my head and sleep claimed me.

* * *

The Italian villa was old. With creaky floors and clanky pipes, chips and cracks in the tile floors and dust on everything. It had history. It had character. I loved it. The terracotta-colored walls were textured with stucco and the furnature was old and minimal. The only thing it really had going for it was it's unexpected ability to hold warmth from the fireplace. But we weren't in Tuscany to spend time in the villa, we were there to drink wine and eat and gaze at the Tuscan sunset after long days of walking through Florence. After polishing off the penne, I was battling Edward for the last bite of chocolate hazelnut Italian cheesecake when his phone started vibrating on the table. Mustang's name displayed on the screen and we both stopped. It stopped after the fourth ring.

"If we don't get a voicemail, we're fine. He's probably just checking in." Edward said, eyeing his phone suspiciously. I took the opportunity to snag the last bite and threw my hands up in victory. Ed grinned and geared up to tackle me in retaliation when his phone began ringing again. This time we looked at eachother.

"You better get it." I said. His expression instantly soured and he snatched up his phone.

"I'm busy." He barked at the phone.

*Nice to hear from you too, Fullmetal. You sound uncommonly grouchy for someone who's been rolling around the mediterranean in a sea of wine and pasta like a pig in a trough.*

"Cut to the chase, I'm at dinner with someone and you're forcing me to be rude." He said winking at me. Mustang knew I was here, he was less than thrilled the day we walked into his office hand-in-hand and said we were leaving the country.

*I need you to relocate your dinner to New York.*

"Fat chance, we've got three more days before we head home."

*If you don't come home now I'll have to postpone the wedding.* Edward and I shot confused looks at eachother and said in unison,

"What wedding?"

* * *

A/N: I feel awful for taking so long to update. It's not how I like to operate and I'm sorry. Thank you all for toughing it out.


	22. Chapter 22

For what it's worth:  
It's never too late to be whoever you want to be.

I hope you live a life You're proud of,  
and if you find that you're not,  
I hope you have the strength to start over.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

* * *

The wedding was a small, intimate affair attended by only immediate family and the closest of friends. It was shuffled together quickly over the previous few weeks, after the dramatic events between myself, Edward, and King Bradley reached a deadly climax and offered Roy Mustang a powerful moment of extreme clarity. He told us upon our arrival back at Central that he realized life is short; something you think he would have comprehended during his years at war serving as a State Alchemist. He realized that life can't be spent worrying about rules or how to please everyone else. You have to figure out what makes you happy, and fight tirelessly in the pursuit of that happiness. It's the only thing that makes life with all it's hardships worth living. So after years and years of sneaking around, laughing off rumors, and lying to avoid any obvious conflict of interest that could affect them professionally, Roy damned the consequences and married Riza.

"I'm the goddamn Brigadier General." He said with a proud, devious grin. "I'd like to see someone try to stop me. Besides, they all think I'm replacing Bradley as Secretary of Defense; they'd be signing their own discharge papers if they pissed me off now."

We both knew he'd never take the job, it would separate him from Riza and the rest of his team. But it was fun to watch the subordinates dance around him even more nervously than usual. The only person who was never intimidated by him was Edward. Not even when he was handed the responsibility of best man.

* * *

Riza had always been very straightforward and to the point, and her wedding ceremony reflected that. It was short and sweet and didn't waste anyone's time. The vows were quick and traditional and there was no sign of overly romantic fluff. In short, it was classic and tasteful. Just like Riza. They chose to marry outside, in the snowy church yard of Trinity Church, just near One World Trade Center in lower Manhattan's financial district. It was fitting for them. The tiny church had been there for over a hundred years despite being incredibly challenged by the forces of the terrible day when it defied the odds and remained standing amidst the rubble of the Twin Towers, which lived only a few blocks away. It was a symbol of endurance through the most trying of times, and perfectly represented the love that Roy and Riza shared secretly for years knowing full well the consequences if ever caught. The late Secretary of Defense had a no tolerance policy for office fraternizations, and had proven himself more than once to be void of human compassion. With rumors flying that Mustang could be taking over, Roy seized his opportunity.

While the ceremony was modest and occupied by a small number of exclusives, the after party that evening was an over-the-top affair with easily 300 people in attendance. It was the decadent foods, flowing champagne, twelve piece jazz band and the Plaza Hotel matching the grandiose pagentry of exuberant joy and prideful boasting that simply screamed 'Roy Mustang'. The man never missed a chance to publicly bask in the glory of personal accomplishment, and the only way to celebrate something as huge as this was for him to do something he never did: flaunt his money.

"I don't mean this the way it's coming out," I said to Edward as he came back from the bar and handed me a glass of champagne. "But how did he afford to do all this in such a short amount of time?"

Ed clasped my hand as we took our seats at the head table next to the empty Bride and Groom seats and we waited for Roy and Riza's arrival.

"Mustang's got money. He was a State Alchemist for years, and even though leaving the program when he was promoted to Brigadier General was actually a pay cut since it's mostly a desk job, he does pretty well there. But most of his money comes from smart investing. He bought several shares of stock in Apple back in the early 90's, then sold a few years down the road."

My jaw dropped. "So he's... like..."

"Stupid rich." He said nonchalantly, sipping his scotch. "You'd never know. He came from nothing so it's never gone to his head. He grew up in foster homes, then joined the military at 18 and climbed the ladder the respectable way. Riza had a less-than-charmed upbringing as well. Her mother died giving birth to her and she joined the military when she was 20 after her father passed. Her father knew Roy and that's how they met." I paused, taking a moment to ponder my next move as my fingertips traced the rim of my champagne flute.

"Did they raise you?" I asked somewhat nervously. His eyes drifted off to the side as my question washed over him, and the corner of his mouth curved up slightly.

"Yea, I guess you could say that, though I never lived with either of them. I spent two years in the hospital and when I was well enough to join the military, Roy had the 7th floor converted into a living space. I've been up there since I was fourteen." He paused to sip his scotch again. "I've never thought of them as parental figures, even though I knew they were involved with one another even back then. Caught them big time in a broom closet when I was 16." He laughed.

I couldn't hide my blush, and he grew quiet suddenly as his face shifted from young, mischievous charm to his alert, molten gaze and he leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"You look gorgeous. Can't wait to rip that dress off."

All the muscles in my lower stomach clenched. Holy cow. He planted a soft kiss just below my ear then swiftly stood to join the rowdy applause as everyone cheered to Roy and Riza's arrival. I was sure that my face matched the vibrant fuschia of the small scrap of floaty chiffon I was wearing, and I gathered my wits to stand and applaud with everyone else. I glanced at Ed, and was met with his usual shit-eating grin. He looked amazing like always, just a little cleaner than usual. Shaved, with combed hair and that incredible designer suit in black on black that he wore to the charity function. During the evening I'd noticed more than a few sets of envious eyes in the room taking in Edward and then sizing me up by comparison. They'd become slack-jawed and salavating at the sight of him and then snap their mouths shut into pouts and frown in dissaproval at the sight of me. I'd remind myself that it was just childish jealousy, and just as my skin would start to crawl as highschool came flooding back, I'd feel his hand at the small of my back and I'd look up at him to find that while every woman was staring at him, he was looking at me.

The boisterous cheering softened to a dull roar and the band played on as Roy and Riza made the rounds, saying quick hellos to each table of friends and collegues before finally making their way to their seats beside us at the head table. Roy was dashing as ever in a classic black and white tux and Riza simply stunned the room. Everyone there was so accustomed to her straight-laced toughness, the sight of her in floor length white silk and her blonde hair flowing was breathtaking. Edward and I hugged them both, unable to surpress our huge grins, and Riza pulled back from my embrace and quietly asked,

"How's everything working out?" Clearly she meant between me and Edward. I slid my gaze to him and Roy exchanging boyish jabs playfully and laughing together. I realized then just how special Roy really was to Edward. He didn't just give him a second chance at life, he became his best friend. I smiled and looked back at Riza.

"It's good. Really good. Amazing actually." Her gaze fell back to where mine previously was on Ed and Roy.

"Look at those two." She said as we watched them chatting animatedly, mocking each other and laughing together. "I owe you an apology Winry."

"What for?" I asked.

"For begging you to stay away from him. I thought for sure it would only make things worse, and Roy and I were so nervous about you two going overseas together, but I can see we were wrong. In all the years I've known Ed, I've never seen him so relaxed and happy. He's different."

She was right. In the months I'd spent with Edward I'd watched the stone walls of his heart slowly crumble and he softened from an apathetic deadly weapon into a living, breathing, person. A deeply-feeling individual who would do anything for anyone, and had gone far beyond his mission requirements when it came to me. He didn't just keep me alive. He cared for me. He healed me. He empowered my battered self-esteem, breaking off the pieces of metal shielding his heart from the world and giving them to me when I needed their protection, all while expecting nothing in return. He was a good man. Riza broke me out of my reverie when she said,

"I don't know what you've done to him, but whatever it is, keep doing it." She hugged me again fiercely and walked to join Roy as they took their seats next to ours at the head table. Rebecca served as Riza's Maid of Honor, and was the first to call for the room's attention with the clinking of her champagne glass and begin her speech. She was adorable with her big, watery brown eyes and her sniffling to hold back her happy tears as she spoke of her long friendship with Riza and how much it meant to see her happy with Roy. After a few minutes of speaking she finally sat to a wealth of applause, and I knew it was Edward's turn.

"You nervous?" I whispered to him under the applause. He smirked at me and with a wink joked, "I'm petrified". I grinned, watching as he rose from his seat and waited for the applause to die down so that he could begin.

"I was more than surprised," He started calmly. "When I got the phone call that Roy was marrying Riza. Now to clarify, I knew this day was coming because I've been harrassing him about it since I was 16."

He was met with soft laughter throughout the room. "But I was still surprised. Not that he was finally manning up, and not that he was throwing this together so quickly. What surprised me was when he asked me to be his Best Man. Your best man is someone who's always been there through thick and thin. He's the guy who will fight for you tirelessly when he knows you're right, and beat the crap out of you when you need to be taught a lesson, because he cares. The best man is your drinking buddy, your shoulder to cry on, the guy who will be your voice of reason, and the guy who's always been there to dust you off when you fall and shove you back in the ring for round two, because he believes in you. I feel like often times, the best man is the person who's always been there to help you be a better man."

He paused for only a moment, as he looked out at the sea of smiling faces before continuing.  
"If I had to guess, I'd say easily two thirds of this room is made up of military members who all know Roy and Riza well. And of those two thirds, maybe half of you know me, and how I'm acquainted with Roy. Roy and Riza are really the greatest people. They've always committed themselves to seeing others succeed, and they both posess a special talent for seeing the opportunity for greatness in the wake of devastation."

I watched him, utterly mesmerized at how comfortable he was speaking to such a large group of intimidating people, and finding myself loving him more and more with each second that ticked by due to the outpouring of devotion he clearly held for Roy and Riza. He drew in a breath and said,

"I was a kid who needed help in the worst of ways. I had no hope for a future at all, but Roy Mustang stepped up and gave me one. Through all the years I've known him, he's fulfilled every duty of a best man almost on a daily basis. He's always been here, pushing me to be great. To strive for more. To reach the potential I never thought I had. I was genuinely surprised when Roy asked me to be his Best Man, because for all I know, he's already beaten me to the punch. He could've done the job for himself because of all the men in this room, and all the men I've ever known, Roy Mustang is by far, the very best man. And I couldn't be happier for him."

The room erupted into thunderous cheers as everyone lept from their seats to applaud and whistle. I was using my napkin to dab the tears from the corners of my eyes as Roy rose from his seat to clap Ed on the shoulder and simply grinned at him. He knew no words were needed. As Edward walked over to embrace Riza I heard her softly say to him,

"We've always seen greatness in you. We couldn't be more proud." He came back and took his seat beside me, and as the band started up to drown out the applause and the waiters appeared with the first courses, I felt cool metal fingers lace themselves with mine under the table.

* * *

The party was carrying long into the night, and began to wind down somewhere around 3am. Most of the guests had said their goodbyes earlier, leaving our usual group of close-knits and their dates all sitting together in the hotel lounge sipping brandy, smoking cigars and eating the wedding cake. Shoes were gone, ties were loosened, Riza had shed her veil opting for comfort over formality. Some sat on the floor and some were on the tufted couches. I sat near Rebecca, Sheska, and Maes's wife Gracia who we'd known for years, the ladies flanking the bride as we ate cake and swapped light-hearted gossip back and forth, sneaking occasional glances at the men sitting across from us with their open collars, evening scruff and half empty bottles of scotch. The fireplace crackled mirroring the life between our two animated groups. Mustang looked every bit like a King on his throne in the leather club chair, a glass of Macallan in one hand and a smoldering cigar in the other. Although, from the way the roaring fire danced in his black eyes when he drew on that cigar and smirked at Riza through the smoke, he looked less like a King with his knights and more like a Mob Boss with his scrappy thugs.

"Calm down, Roy." Rebecca teased in her usual playful way as she linked arms with Riza. "We're still having girl time over here, you'll have to wait a little longer before she's all yours." She winked. He smirked at her and said,

"I'd never dream of rushing any of you ladies. I'm a patient man. I've been waiting for over a decade, what's another hour?"

Jean Havoc interrupted him with an incredulous look and said, "Oh fuck off." Followed by the men's laughter and Breda, Feury, and Falman all chiming in with comments such as,

"Yeah I believe you as far as I can throw you."

"You've never held back from trying to rush anyone."

"You're about as patient as an ambulance."

Edward grinned devilishly and leaned back in his chair next to Mustang.

"You didn't wait for shit." He said to Roy with that mischievous look, earning more laughter from the boys and another smirk from Roy. The conversation among friends and good-natured teasing continued for awhile, only faltering when a very tired looking man in a grey suit -no doubt the hotel's manager- walked somewhat nervously over to our group to inquire when we'd be retiring for the evening. It was 4am, and well past my bedtime. As we began to gather up shoes and suit jackets, rocks glasses and frosting smeared plates, we stood and stretched to start saying goodbyes to one another when the hotel manager was joined by another man in another grey suit, this time carrying a slip of folded white paper and presented it to Roy.

"A fax came to the hotel for you, Sir. From Internal Affairs. They asked me to tell you it's urgent." He said. Mustang paused for a moment, staring at the folded paper.

"A fax? They could have just emailed me."

"They asked me to tell you that they tried but you apparently aren't looking at your phone, Sir." Mustang's expressing soured and he took the paper while muttering,

"It's not like I'm getting married today or anything." He unfolded it and scanned the first few lines, then froze. He promptly folded the paper up and slid it into his tux's inner breast pocket.

"What is it?" Riza asked, walking over to him. He smiled down at her lovingly.

"It can wait till tomorrow. Just something I need to look into. I don't want to talk about it until we do some fact checking."

"Let me take care of it." Edward said. "You're going on your honeymoon. Leave it for me and I'll look into it. We'll talk when you get back." Roy shook his head, declining the offer.

Ed walked over to my where I was sitting on the carpet and extended a hand to help me up. I slid my heels back on and we all slowly made our way out of the lounge, saying our goodnights as some headed to the parking lot and some headed to the elevators to go to their rented rooms. When it was just Ed and I alone with Roy and Riza, the four of us walked to the elevator to turn in for the night. The doors slid closed, and that's when Roy spoke again.

"I need to keep this close to the chest for awhile, so this doesn't leave this elevator. Ed, you can answer a question for me to give me head start." He pulled the paper from his jacket to glance at it's contents again before sliding back into hiding and turning to Edward.

"Do you know anyone named Alphonse?"

* * *

A/N: home stretch.


	23. Chapter 23

The thing about chaos, is that while it disturbs us,  
it too, forces our hearts to roar in a way we secretly find magnificent.

-Christopher Poindexter

* * *

He was mad. At the very least, extremely frustrated. I could feel his subtle anger simmering under his collected exterior as we walked down the long hallway to our suite after bidding good evening to the happy couple. If there was one thing that didn't sit well with Edward Elric, it was being ill-informed. And Mustang was iron-clad about keeping Edward out of this loop. I'd come to learn that Edward hated being made to feel like he wasn't in control of himself and his surroundings, and living with me was a lesson to him in learning to let go control of other people. It pissed him off when I wouldn't open up to him about my importance to the military, he hated it when I ran from him and disobeyed his orders to go back inside after he attacked me -as if anyone would blame me- and he was beyond livid when I showed up at his apartment despite having told Mustang to keep me away. I simply would no longer stand for anyone in my life trying to order me around. Not my Grandmother, or the military, and I certainly wasn't going to relinquish control to the one person who made me realize that I had the power all along.

But things were different now. He was different and so was I. There was one facet of my life where I was more than happy to give over complete control to him, and when he ripped my dress off me like he threatened to earlier and threw me on the bed, I knew there would be no fighting him even if I'd wanted to. He wasn't hungrily sating his starvation like our first time together, and he wasn't using his body to slowly beg forgiveness like when we were at his apartment. He wasn't being playful and drunk and laughing with me in the fumbled throws of passion like we did in Europe, either. He was stoic. Serious. Mouth set in a hard, grim line and eyes as peircing and assertive as the day I met him. He was beautiful and deadly as he disgarded our clothes in the swift movements of mere seconds and wasted no time claiming his prey, plunging in deep as I gasped loudly from being stretched to the hilt. His pace was unexpected and merciless, something I was unprepared for concidering he'd wasted no time on toying with his prey and instead opted to go straight for the kill.

I had no choice but to cling and endure, and my body was more than willing to play along. I couldn't control my panting, the volume of the sounds he elicited from me, the way I had to spit curses through gritted teeth because gutteral moans simply weren't enough to absorb the shock from him pounding deeper... harder... almost throbbing... my fucking god... he was going to kill me. I would be forever known as the woman whose orgasm was so powerful it knocked her six feet under. Fear spiked in me when his skillful hands roamed by body far more aggresively than they ever had, clawing and groping me insatiably. He was furious and lashing out, desperately clinging for control and excersizing his power the best way he knew how, because clearly he was supposed to know who this 'Alphonse' person was but he had no idea. He could offer no clues to Roy and received no other information in return. To know that Mustang knew something about his past that Edward didn't was likely killing him.

I'd lost all sense of time, absorbed in the delicious agony of his punishing pace steadily building the pressure within me. I was suddenly flipped onto my stomach and then pulled up on my knees, with my back flush against his muscled chest we were both kneeling upright on the mattress. I gasped and panted, over and over, trying to catch my breath as he pulled my arms back, forcing my back to arch slightly as his hands gripped my hips and pulled me back against him roughly so I could feel his impressive length pressing heavily against my inner thigh. My throat instantly went dry, I wanted him back inside of me immediatly, and was being beyond tortured with the wait. He must have read my filthy mind begging him to fuck me again, because he quickly gripped a metal arm tightly across my chest and shoved his other hand into my hair, pulling my head back to lay over his shoulder and bare my neck to him. As scorching hot breaths of air warmed over my neck, he slammed back into me with a primal growl and his voice graveled hotly over my ear as he hammered away.

"You're mine. Say it."

I could barely speak. I could only manage to push out gasps and garbled 'oh gods' and 'fuck me's' carried on the weak voice of someone who was suffocating on the delight of being fucked to death. I could barely get out choked mewls of ecstacy from the feeling of his gorgeous, horrible, wonderful onslaught; relentless scorching velvet, heart-stopping, conquering, amazing. He stopped for a split second to tighten his hold on me, pull out to the tip agonizingly slowly, then punish me by shoving back in without warning.

"Say it. You're mine, Winry." He resumed his hard, fluid pounding. The coils in my belly were wound so fucking tight they trembled from the strain, but he wouldn't let me plunge over the edge. He kept me teetering, the bastard. He was nearing the edge too. His breathing matched mine for raggedness, his skin sheened with sweat -hot and slick- making it harder for him to maintain his grip on me. His rough hands dug in deeper, hurting me but I didn't care. The pain radiated and quickly shifted to wanton pleasure, only hardening the straining muscles near my pelvis making the sweet torture as delicious as it was unbearable. His resolve was slipping but I wouldn't take control from him. Not while doing this. He knew my neck was my weak point, and one long, languid drag of his hot tongue up the hollow of my throat was my complete undoing, and as he pulled me hard to his chest and pounded into me, I saw white and shattered around him, crying out. He didn't stop.

"I'm yours," I rushed out breathlessly. "...I'm yours Edward." This was apparently his undoing because he thrust three more times deeply then spat a vicious curse as he pulled out and finished on the sheets before we toppled over together, exhausted and gasping for air.

* * *

I blinked my eyes open in the darkness, and didn't know how much time had passed between then and when we'd finished. My heart was still racing and he was still catching his breath, resting his full body weight on my lower half and pressing my front into the mattress. My head was reeling, it was by far the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced in my life, and I made a mental note to have angry sex with Ed more often. God only knows what he'd do if it were I who he was mad at while fucking. He'd probably break my pelvis. I began to stir slightly, and he pushed some of his weight off me so I could turn on my back as he crawled up my body. We said nothing as our gazes met, knowing that this was the first time we'd had sex without kissing, or clasping hands, or looking at eachother. And we weren't even mad at eachother. His golden eyes were soft and glowy again, not sharp and unnerving like before, and he broke the silence as he smoothed away the sweat-soaked hair that clung near my eyes.

"I don't know what to say," He started quietly. "I'm... I'm sorry." He rested his forehead over my beating heart, and I could feel his uneven breath on my skin. I gently pulled him back to face me again.

"Don't be, it was incredible. If I wanted you to stop I would have said something."

"Could you have?" He challenged with concern in his eyes. Nope. I couldn't.

"I didn't want to." I said. "If I'd wanted you to ease up I would have said or done something. Don't be so hard on yourself. I loved every minute of it." I said with a smirk. It was true, I did love it. I made an adendem to my mental note of future angry sex with Ed to include a possible safe word as his ever-changing gaze shifted slightly serious again and he traced the edge of my bottom lip with his thumb.

"I love you." He said. Clear, unhurried and with purpose. His eyes blazed into my own. "No matter what happens for the rest of my life, even if I never get any answers, I'll be happy because you know that I love you."

He kissed me deeply and pulled me to arch up against him, and this time I knew it would be different. This time all anger, confusion, resentment would be gone. I knew we would both sleep peacefully that night because this time, it was all love.

* * *

One Month Later

* * *

We sat together on the couch in Ed's apartment in a state of tense anxiety. Well, anxiety on my part. Edward seemed calm on the surface as he focused all attention on the 6 o'clock news. He was particularly quiet. He was always quiet when he had a lot on his mind, but had barely uttered a word all day because on that day we were facing an unhurdled obsticle neither one of us saw coming. We were waiting on the arrival of Edward's brother.

In the month since the wedding, Roy had been working closely with Investigations and Internal Affairs to uncover whatever they could about the young man claiming to be the brother of Edward Elric. Since bringing Edward to New York as a child, Roy and Maes worked constantly to try and find any clues about his life before he was taken. But with any files containing his information physical or digital missing, there was no way for them to know where to start. And because of what had been done to him and what his mental state was, they doubted sending him home would be safe if they ever found one. He was a danger to himself and to others. It didn't stop Mustang from searching, using what little information they had to go on to try and find anyone -family or friend- that knew Ed. It wasn't until learning of King Bradley's orchistration that we knew why all searches came up empty.

"He poisoned the mainframe." Roy said to us a month earlier, two weeks after he and Riza came home from their honeymoon in Fiji. "Someone working for him created an encryption software that would block us from doing any searches that could result in Bradley incriminating himself, and that includes getting information about you, Fullmetal. The digital files we pulled from the Helsinki lab were all part of a heavily fire-walled network, and took months for the military to crack into. A civilian PC could never do it. It wasn't until we brought in Internal Affairs to start rooting around in Bradley's office, that we came across this."

He produced a cream paper folder nearly an inch thick with papers and handed it over his desk to Edward. We sat in chairs next to eachother and when Ed opened the folder I bit back a gasp. There was a stack of papers of all different colors, shapes and sizes, each of them offering a different glimpse into the life of Edward Elric. Bradley had been keeping tabs on Edward constantly, watching his experiment grow from terrified and lost little boy into a deadly predator of a man, saving each piece of paperwork submitted from his various completed missions over the years, counting his kills along with his saves, even holding copies of his medical charts from every physical and automail maintenance or upgrade. And there were photos. Trailing backward in sequential order from nearly present day. The first couple were shotty polaroids of him at the gun range firing various hand guns and semi-automatics along with assault rifles and they were clipped to the folded up paper targets he'd been firing at. Rifling further through the stack showed pictures of a younger Edward, the number 21 written on the back of another photo -this one a 4x6 of him in head-to-toe desert fatigues with dirt smudges across his smirking face and carrying an AK-47 in one hand with the other arm hooked around the neck of a cigarette-smoking Jean Havoc in matching fatigues. They were the picture of friendly comraderie.

"This was Afghanistan." He murmured. "My second tour, and Jean's third. I remember having this taken. The guy who took it never made it home."

My stomach turned.

We flipped through more of Edward's handwritten paperwork, medical charts from earlier years and photos of him sparring with soldiers at the gym at 20, graduating from the military academy with top honors at 18, laying in the hospital after having his automail upgraded at 16. It was unbelievable. Bradley had stolen items to document every milestone in the growth and development of Edward, fully intending to never help him find out who he is. Ready to watch him suffer as no one else had ever suffered. But the numerous photos also offered us a reminder that while Edward's childhood was a blank slate, he had lived an extraordinary life for a man of not even 30. As we neared the back of the folder, the face in the photos became younger, the writing on the paperwork became comicly sloppier, and we came to rest on a white envelope. Pulling out the contents, we were staring at a Social Security Card and a Birth Certificate.

* * *

"Wasn't he supposed to be here around 6:30? It's an hour past."

"He probably got lost." I said, looking up from my book. "He said he's never been to New York."

"Still, take a cab for fuck's sake." Ed sighed irritably.

"Are you going to be this cantankerous when he gets here?" I asked.

"No, and we don't even know who he is. Just because the DNA test says we're related doesn't mean I can trust him. What if he's a crazy person? I can't believe Roy is just letting him waltz up here like it's no big deal."

I rolled my eyes.

"Who's waltzing? He's being escorted up 7 flights of stairs and coming in through the stairwell door. He'll have no idea which elevator to take or what code he needs to get in. Besides, you're here." I smiled. His face softened for a moment before his cocky smirk snapped back into place and he moved to sip his scotch.

"Damn straight, I'm here."

* * *

"I've never had a social security number before." He marveled, looking at the small blue paper and running his fingers over the numbers. "Or an actual birthdate."

July 17th, 1985

"The doctors were close." He said looking up at Mustang with excitement in his eyes. "We never really knew when I was born, but the docs thought I might've been born around this time. How did Bradley get these?"

"I'm guessing they're government copies. Anyone can put in requests for new copies of these kind of documents. With power like his, I'm sure getting these was all too easy." Roy said.

I watched Ed's face fill with wonder as he scanned the contents of his birth certificate, the corners of his sculpted mouth slightly upturned in amusement.

"I have a weird name." He said looking up at Roy and me. "Edward Von Hoenheim Elric. I was born to Von Hoenheim and Tricia Elric. I wonder why I wasn't given my father's last name."

"Perhaps they weren't married?" I offered.

"There's a lot that we still don't know." Mustang interjected. "The IT department is still working on breaking the encrypted software that's been plaguing our system for years, so we haven't been able to find anything on your parents. However, we did find someone who may know you. The fax I got from from Internal Affairs at the wedding said they'd come across a young man named Alphonse Curtis who might be able to shed some light. He was booked in the L.A. County jail on counts of public drunkeness and B&E. Apparently he got hammered, broke into a Petsmart, and when the cops showed up he was sitting on the floor petting all the adoptable kittens and sobbing on and on about how he needed to find his missing brother."

"I can't decide if that's pathetic or depressing." Ed grimaced.

"A little bit of both. They ignored him at first, but he caught attention by dropping your name."

Edward set the closed folder with all its contents back on Mustang's desk and blew out a sigh.

"So, what now?" He asked.

"I've already spoken to this Alphonse character. I wanted to size him up first before mentioning it to you, I didn't think it would be worth putting you through all this if I didn't believe he could give us some answers."

"What did he say?" I asked. Mustang shrugged.

"He begged me to tell him if his brother was alive, and were he could find him. I wasn't willing to share any information on our end, it's too risky. For all we know, this could be an enemy trying to pull a fast one. But he sounded fairly normal, just sad and desperate. He's a doctor in Los Angeles. I told him he wouldn't be permitted to speak to you until DNA testing is complete. That is, unless you want to call him?"

Edward blanched and glanced at me, seemingly lost for what to do. He shook his head.

"No, I don't want to know anything about him. This is all happening really fast." I chose that moment to place my hand over his on the arm rest.

"We don't know anything for sure yet." I reminded him, and I turned to address Roy. "When are you planning to do the test?"

"Well, we've asked officials on the west coast to obtain a blood sample and ship it here. I'm not comfortable having them compare their test results to ours digitally, I'd rather have our people run his blood against yours here to see if theres a match. We'll need to take some blood from you Ed, if that's what you want to do."

Edward nodded, brow furrowed in thought. We moved to get up and head to the lab when Mustang stopped us.

"There's one more thing," He said, his voice suddenly dropping. He handed another white envelope to Edward. "I've been holding on to this for a long time. It's time I gave it to you."

Inside was another 4x6, this one slightly mangled from years of handling, on the back of which was written '03 Oct. 2001'. Edward turned it over and I gasped, turning away. It was a child, sitting upright in a hospital bed slumped over and staring blankly into nothingness. Dried patches and smears of brownish red smattered his skin and hospital gown, the blood caked in his hairline and over his ears, coating his hands and fingers. The photographer stood behind a glass window looking in, and the child seemed unaware that he was being watched. Like he didn't know what was happening, or where he was. His stringy, blood-streaked hair was blonde. His dull and unseeing eyes were gold. His limbs were metal. My throat tightened horribly and I looked at Edward.

His hardened gaze poured over the photograph and he said nothing.

"This was the day you arrived here from Finland. You had just woken up, we had to sedate when we tried to move you from the building. You lashed out at everyone except Riza, none of us could get close to you."

"I remember." He finally said. "I knew you were there. Why did you take this?"

Mustang paused to collect himself before answering.

"I knew it would be a tough road ahead. I was determined to see you live as close to a normal life as possible, and I refused to accept that I couldn't save even one child from that horrible place. I had one shot to get it right. I knew there would be more bad days than good, and I knew there would be times when you'd be ready to throw it all away. I needed this to serve as a reminder of how far you'd come; I wanted the tangible proof that you'd gotten better. Just incase anyone ever tried to argue otherwise, and for the moments when I needed inspiration for my next pep talk. Every time I've ever talked you off the ledge, it was with this photo in my back pocket."

That was the second time I'd heard someone mention Edward wanting to end his life. It sliced fear in me, and it seemed like he knew what I was thinking because he took my hand in his and ran a cool, steel thumb over my knuckles.

"I'm seeing clearly for the first time. I'm more self-aware than ever, and I've never actually felt excited about the future before. I won't be needing anymore interventions." He said to Roy, then turned to me to capture my gaze. "I'm not going anywhere."

As we left and crossed the compound to the hospital, Edward grew silent again. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his head was down. As we entered the bustling hospital and made our way to the lab for him to give blood, he halted suddenly and glanced around quickly. His hand hooked around my elbow and I was pulled into a supply closet. The door closed and I was in his arms with his face buried in the crook of my neck.

"What if it's a lie?" He croaked. "What if he's just someone from a past mission or someone who knew me from my tour in the middle east? Or what if he's the enemy?" He let out a shuddered sigh and pulled back to rest his forehead against mine.

"People know about me. When I was a kid in the academy the other students knew about me. Any one of them could have grown up, retired from service and come back claiming to be my family."

He was on the verge of a breakdown. "For years I searched, but always felt in my gut that I would never find anything. I finally began to accept it, and then I met you. Now I almost wish this wasn't happening." I traced his strong jawline for him to look at me.

"You're freaking out, that's okay. No one said you had to get your hopes up. Just because this guy knows your name doesn't mean anything. Roy's smart and looks out for you, he wouldn't let this guy anywhere near you if he thought he was some whackjob."

"I'm not worried about my safety, I'm worried about my psyche. I can't handle being fucked around with anymore." He closed his eyes and I felt the color drain from my face as I watched a tear stream down his cheek. I needed to be the strong one for once. For the first time, I needed to protect him. I launched at him, flinging my arms around him to hold him to me.

"No matter what happens, remember?" I said. "We have eachother. I'm all yours and I know that you love me. That's what you need to be happy." I felt him nod and his arms tightened their hold on me as he whispered back,

"No matter what."

* * *

I watched the unwrapped Hershey's Kiss sail through the air toward me and craned my head back, catching it in my mouth and throwing my arms up in victory as Ed laughed.

"Yes!" He cheered. "And it only took about 10 tries. You better find all the ones that missed, the housekeeper will have my head if she finds chocolate smeared in my couch cusions." I smiled knowing my brave soldier, my State Alchemist, feared among terrorist organizations the world over for being deadly and undetectable like carbon minoxide, was intimidated by a sassy and 60-year old irish woman who didn't give two fucks. I giggled and thought she and my granny should have tea.

I saluted him sarcastically and said, "Yes sir, Fullmetal." He narrowed his lovely eyes at me and sauntered over from his club chair, holding my chin in his hand to look up at him. He grinned.

"Don't mock me woman." He pecked my cheek and disappeared towards the bedroom as I stood and gathered up the remaining Kisses, putting them in the trash. I stretched lazily and noted the time: 9pm. It looked like our guest was a no show. A pang of guilt hit me as I recalled the way I fussed over making Ed's apartment even more immaculate that it usually was, dusting every surface and lighting a yummy smelling candle to prepare for someone that didn't even bother to show. I could only imagine how Ed must've felt being stood up by his only known family. Anger roared in me, and I marched over to my phone to call downstairs and ask if this Alphonse guy had even bothered to call. But as I bent to pick up my phone I caught Hughes's voice carrying from the stairwell and coming closer. Without thinking, I ducked behind one of the large bookshelves that separated the seating area from billiards table and listened as the stairwell door opened and his voice became clear.

"Keep in mind that he doesn't remember you. He has no clue who you are. Now before I leave you, lets go over the rules one more time." Maes said. "What do you not ask about?"

"His job. I can't ask about his job." The voice was young, strong, and rang out clear and confident. A little higher than Edward's.

"What else?"

"His girl. I can't ask how he met -what was her name again?"

"Her name is Winry, and he's very protective of her. We all are. Tell me the last rule we talked about, the most important one." Maes ordered.

"Right, don't touch him and don't approach him. I have to let him come to me. Got it." I heard the stairwell door push open again to the soft knocks of shoes stepping on the hardwood floors.

"You know, If I didn't know better, I'd think you were releasing me into a wolf's den or something." The voice laughed nervously. The room grew quiet again and Maes replied,

"You have no idea."

I heard the door shut and my heart hammered. Holy crap. Edward's brother was here.

* * *

A/N: Almost there.


	24. Epilogue

Know this, and remember it when the nights get long or the days get short or the space between the minutes is stretched and pulled tight between us:  
Wherever we go, whatever we do, we will leave a trail behind us for the world to see.  
We will burn white into the blue of the sky,  
and not a soul will be able to resist marveling at the mark we have made.

-Tyler Knott Gregson

* * *

The photo album was thick and worn; the edges of each plastic page splitting in the corners from overuse. We sat together on the rug in the great room, killing a bottle of wine while Alphonse shared stories and pictures of the childhood Edward lost.

"And when I finally found you, we were both head to toe in mud!" He laughed, "Mom was so mad."

Edward smiled sadly, I knew it was bittersweet for him to hear this. I could tell he was so happy to finally have answers and know who he is and where he's from, who his family is. What we weren't expecting was to find out he would never meet his parents.

There had been an accident not long after Ed's disappearance. A house fire. Alphonse was at school when it happened, and afterwards went to live with a young couple who'd been family friends for years: Sig and Izumi Curtis. Their official adoption of him had changed his last name in the records, explaining why a search for living persons with the last name 'Elric' would return no parents or siblings.

"I still can't believe I'm sitting here with you." Alphonse said with wet eyes. Edward hadn't shown much emotion even after seeing pictures of himself with his family. It was only when Alphonse gave his brother an earnest look and asked if he still hated mil that Edward's face drained of color and his eyes went wide.

"Milk is disgusting. How did you-"

"I told you Ed." Alphonse interrupted with a smile. "I'm your little brother. We knew everything about each other. We were best friends before you were taken."

Ed's eyes were raw and wide as he stared at Alphonse and gulped.

"We were?"

"Yea, we did everything together. We were together when they took you. They tried to take me..." He trailed off sadly. Ed sent him a grave look.

"What happened?"

Alphonse's large bronze eyes turned serious, and in that moment he couldn't have looked more like his brooding older brother. His hair was shorter and a dirtier blond verging on brown, he matched Edward in height and bore the same broad shoulders, but his eyes -while deeper, big and happy- sharpened into the same piercing gaze that masked a life of pain.

"You sacrificed yourself." He said. "They wanted me, but when we couldn't get away you convinced them to take you instead. What happened to you? why don't you remember me? What did they do to you?"

Ed frowned slightly and laced flesh fingers with mine as we sat on the rug across from his brother.

"I'm not prepared to talk about that, and I doubt you're prepared to hear it right now. I'll tell you when I'm ready." His limbs were covered as they were when we met. He had disappeared into the bedroom earlier to change into long sleeves and pull on his black glove just before Alphonse's arrival. Edward had remained stoic and collected throughout the evening, even when he emerged from the bedroom and watched me greet his brother. Alphonse displayed a far wider range of emotion upon seeing his brother for the first time in years, the brother who was believed to be dead. Shaking his hand gave me view to his bright, bronze eyes and happy demeanor, and when he glanced over my shoulder and saw Edward standing in the doorway he paled considerably and went silent. Turning to look behind me, I was met with the all-too-familiar sharp glare of a wolf on the offensive, sizing up the enemy as he slowly stalked around Alphonse. He finally stopped next to me and stood with hands on hips, glaring at our visitor.

"You're late."

Alphonse's eye swam and he threw out the rule book by launching himself at Ed, gripping him in a bear hug as Edward sent me an alarmed look.

"Brother, where have you been?!" A twinge of panic swept through me and I almost stepped in to separate them, fearing that Ed could lash out. But I halted when Ed's alarmed glare softened and he returned the young man's embrace. I knew then that Edward's guard was comfortably down, and that we were no longer among a stranger; we were with family.

* * *

Six Months Later

* * *

"Win, babe, let's go." He called from the living room.

"Two seconds I swear!" I slipped on my heels and fluffed my hair in the mirror as he sighed,

"You said that ten minutes ago. We're gonna be late." I straightened my white chiffon dress -the one I wore to the charity gala at The McKittrick- and scrambled out of the bedroom, practically skidding to a stop in front of him. He was texting as he stood near the elevator , looking sleek in that all black suit I loved, and his eyes slid from his phone to my feet and slowly climbed my body before meeting mine. He grinned wickedly.

"I've been wondering where that dress went."

"Are you gonna make fun of me again? The last time time I wore this you said it was smaller than its 'how-to-wash' tag." I pouted.

He laughed, which was such a beautiful sound because he did it so rarely, and took my hand as he pecked my cheek.

"Yea well, guys make fun of girls when we like them. I plan on making fun of you a lot." He said with gleeful mirth in his eyes. I smiled as he pulled me into the elevator and we began our dissent to the parking garage below Central.

"Besides," he added coolly. "I never said I didn't like it. I love that dress. I love seeing you in that dress."

We got in the Aston Martin and he looked at me as he rolled the engine over and the car purred to life.

"I love the thought of peeling that dress off you with my teeth."

* * *

We pulled to a stop outside the restaurant and as I unlocked my seat belt and reached for the door I paused; Edward's eyes were focused in front of him, and he looked nervous.

"What is it?" I asked. He turned and gazed earnestly at me.

"I just can't believe he's doing this." I took his hand -gleaming exposed metal- and gave him a reassuring look.

"He's had a lot of time to plan for this, and I think it'll be good for the both of you. L.A. is so far from here, and you never go there."

He nodded and we angled out so the valet could take the car. The evening breeze of late summer was cool and comfortable, skimming over my exposed skin as we walked into Boule', one of the best restaurants in the city.

Alphonse was at the bar waiting for us, handsome and strapping in a tailored suit just like his brother, along with his lovely wife who we were finally meeting. Edward never had time to go to L.A. to visit so his brother came to New York for a visit three months prior, and asked how Ed would feel about having him live closer. In the city, to be exact. Sig and Izumi Curtis no longer lived in Dublith, California and had bought a bungalow in key west where they could drink margaritas and sink their toes in the sand, so he had no other reason to stay. We were arranging to fly them to New York for Christmas so Edward could meet them. As we neared the bar Edward broke out in his dazzling mega-watt smile.

"Good to see you, Al." He said as they hugged. Al turned to embrace me and pecked my cheek.

"Winry how are you?" I smiled and replied that I was well and that Ed and I had missed him, before turning my attention to Alphonse's lovely companion.

"Meet my wife, Mae."

Mae Curtis was a fair-skinned slip of a woman in a red fitted cocktail dress with a mandarin collar and midnight hair picked up into braided buns. She had the same shining, happy eyes as her husband, though hers were nearly black. Her natural glow came from round rosy cheeks and her voice rang out light and chipper like a ringing bell. She bounded up to Edward and practically jumped into his arms.

"Oh Edward I can't tell you how happy I am to finally meet you!" She squealed with mist in her eyes. She gave me the same energetic embrace. "You must be Winry! My goodness you're so beautiful, I'm so thrilled to meet you!" I blushed and thanked her as we were shown to our table.

* * *

Two hours flew by in a matter of minutes and the four of us were laughing together in a sea of fine wine, having just polished off one of the most incredible meals I'd ever had as the manager came over with complimentary desserts for the table. Ed stole the strawberries away from my cheesecake as I reached my spoon over to scoop all the whipped cream off his chocolate silk pie; we had grown to know each other's likes and dislikes quite well.

"So Al," Edward began. "Are you absolutely sure about this? Don't get me wrong, we'd love to have you both here, but what about your work?"

"I've already been talking to people over at Mount Sinai about residencies, there's a few opening up in a couple months. I can get an easy transfer and we'll just hodgepodge together to get our stuff here." He squeezed his wife's hand and smiled sweetly at her. "Besides, it's Mae's work with the military that would really pull the trigger in us moving."

We had learned that while Alphonse was an intelligent and well respected physician holding residency at Cedar Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles, he was more than happy to be out-shined by his brilliant wife. Mae was in medicine as well, a gifted surgeon who continued her studies to specialize in medical chemistry and research.

"I've been working closely with the military to develop vaccines; living in New York will give me the opportunity to use the facilities at Central to further my research. How about you Winry? What do you do?"

I could feel Edward still next to me, but I barely missed a beat and said, "I also work with the military's medical personnel developing vaccines. I'm a paid test subject, I have perfect blood."

Alphonse and Mae nearly spat out their Moscato and looked at me in shock.

"But how?" She stammered. "That's a myth, right?"

"Nope." I smiled, taking a bite of cheesecake. "It's real, just incredibly rare. We reduced it to a myth to protect me, and it's ultimately how I met Ed." I laced my finger with his metal ones on the table. Al and Mae were true professionals, because the sight of Ed's prosthetic barely phased them. "Someone was threatening my life, and the military sent Ed to protect me." Alphonse blinked in surprise.

"So that's what you do Ed? You're military police?"

Ed squeezed my hand and smiled at me proudly before looking back at his younger brother.

"Not exactly, I'm a soldier. Special Forces. Winry is very important to the military so I was pulled off a mission to keep her safe." Of course he had to fib a little; how do you sit across from polite company at a nice dinner and tell them you're a counter-terrorism government assassin? It was something even I was still coming to grips with. He did a great job of making me forget about it while he was home, but when he went on TDY I was brutally reminded, even though not every trip was for the purpose of eliminating a target. The worst was two months after I'd moved into his apartment. There had been an attack at City Hall in Philadelphia by radical extremist suicide bombers, and a single terrorist in Syria had claimed responsibility for orchestrating the event. We were eating lunch at home on a Wednesday when the call came in and I watched his deadly stoic mask slide into place. He pulled on his boots, grabbed his large canvas bag which was always packed and ready, and kissed me deep and slow. It wasn't the first time I'd had to watch him leave for a trip, but it was the first time I had to kiss him goodbye knowing that he was heading into an enemy war zone with orders to kill, and that he might not come back. I cried all day and into the night when he left, and when he returned battered and bruised, laying in the hospital waiting for a new automail arm after his was shattered, I howled unladylike sobs of anguish until he opened his shadowy sunken eyes two days later, gave me a crooked smile and croaked,

"Quit crying woman, I'm fine." This of course only made me sob harder as he pulled me down to his chest and held me close. "I missed you, Rockbell."

I was brought back to reality when the waiter produced the check and Edward and Alphonse began to bicker over who would pay, both of them shoving their credit cards at the poor confused server saying,

"Are you crazy?! You're not paying! Don't charge his card, charge mine." Mae and I smiled at each other, silently loving this moment of watching the brothers feud before the fed up waiter rolled his eyes and snatched up both cards saying, "I'll just split the bill."

* * *

I sighed contently after coming down, Edward lay sprawled on top of me with his head on my stomach as he fought to catch his breath. After a moment he collected himself and crawled up to collapse next to me.

"You're welcome." He said with a shit-eating grin. I burst out laughing and playfully pushed him, which gave him perfect opportunity to grab my wrist and pull me across him as he rolled and pinned me to the mattress. He laughed and gazed at me his eyes shining in the dark.

"Say, "Thank you, Ed.""

"Oh get over yourself." I said, and whacked him with a pillow. He sat there stunned, and his face shifted from stupefied to the sly, cunning animal ready to pounce. Excitement and anxiety surged in me and I knew what was coming.

"Oh, you're messing with the wrong guy, Rocky." And that was the start of our pillow fight turned wrestling match turned sweet and passionate kissing; the deep and toe-curling kind.

"I love seeing you like this." I said to him as he hovered over me. his face close to mine. "You seem happy."

"I am. I'm better than happy. I'm at peace, and it's all because of you. None of this would have happened if I hadn't met you." I considered his words for a moment before adding,

"Well, none of this would have happened if I didn't have perfect blood."

"I was surprised to hear you open up about it tonight." He said, moving a few strands of hair from my eyes. I shrugged.

"I'm not afraid to talk about it anymore. You taught me that. I felt powerless for so many years until I met you, and now I know I can live whatever life I want because I've always been the one in control. When the world finds out about me, I won't be afraid. Especially because I've got you." A calm serenity washed over his features.

"You have no idea how much power you have. I'm completely useless against you. " He laughed. "When I saw you in Roy's office, I was done for."

I couldn't help giggling in response.

"You laugh, but I'm serious." He said. "I was ready to end it all. I was so fucked up, and I saw you and that was it. It was like ...suddenly feeling a heartbeat when you'd only ever known yourself to be dead. It scared the shit out of me. I never thought I'd get any answers, I never thought I'd find out who did this to me or who I am, and I was so damn sure that I'd never be in love."

I started welling up and he rolled his eyes, laughing at me.

"Not this again, get it together Rockbell." I laughed at him and it eased the tension in my throat. He looked at me lovingly and said,

"You met me when I was at my absolute worst, and somehow you manage to love this mess anyway." He rested his body weight on me as he embraced me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "I can't thank you enough for that, Winry."

How the hell was I supposed to not cry after hearing that? My arms wrapped about him and my fingers laced into his loose hair.

"I love you, Edward." I felt him grin, and he pulled back and kissed me.

I knew that life would never be the same for either of us, it would never be what we'd always known because since meeting each other everything had changed. We faced fears, embraced faults, I learned to take control while he learned to let go of some. He saw through my insecurities to the woman who wanted to embrace life, and I saw past his terrifying demons to help him realize that life was worth living and that if he had to suffer, he would never suffer alone. We were two lonely, broken people slowly healing because we knew that we would never have to feel alone again. Both resigned to the idea that our dreams would never be accomplished, that love wasn't something in the cards for us, that we'd never get to live our lives the way we wanted to. How blissful it was to know then that we were wrong. And in that moment, for the first time since I could remember, everything truly was perfect.

* * *

A/N: I can't thank you all enough for your dedication to this story. This started out as something I wrote solely for myself as a creative outlet, and when I uploaded it I never expected so much wonderful feedback. It's very easy to be mean on the internet, and not a single person has been to me, and it restores my faith in humanity. It took me a long time to write the final chapter of this because it had to be perfect, and I hope you all found it satisfactory. Thank you again for your attention and kind words. Till next time,

- .C


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